Heart of Darkness
by ohtruepairings
Summary: What if Clary wasn't such an Angel girl? And what if Sebastian got to her first? What if her dark heart really did belong to him? **THIS IS A CLEBASTIAN FIC WE AIN'T ABOUT THAT CLACE LIFE HERE** *WARNING:INCEST/VIOLENCE/LEMONS* ***Rated M***
1. Chapter 1

The Beginning

Clary Fray hated birthdays. It was only an excuse for her mom to make her pancakes and smile at Clary like an idiot. Jocelyn was simply too peppy for Clary. A hipster artist with a dream going nowhere fast. Clary wanted more but at 16 there wasn't anywhere else for her to go. So for now she sat in the kitchen and ate her birthday pancakes wishing she could wipe that smile off her mothers face.

"Wanna have a Netflix marathon tonight?" Jocelyn asked sweetly, trying not to show how much she hoped her daughter would say yes. She didn't want to have to be the bad guy on Clary's birthday. But today she was 16 and she wasn't getting out of this house if Jocelyn had to tie her to the chimney. Jocelyn knew what 16 meant. They were coming.

Unfortunately it seemed Clary wasn't gonna make it easy. "No mom it's my birthday. I wanna go to the club with Simon like last year."

"Absolutely not," Jocelyn knew she had spoken too quickly and with too much authority, and tried to hastily fix the situation, "I mean I would really rather you stayed in today. I was actually going to keep you home from school. Wouldn't you like that?"

Much to Jocelyn's dismay, Clary's face turned an angry shade of scarlet and started to give her mother a piece of her mind. "How dare you? You make me pretty pancakes and put on a pretty smile but you had no intention of actually considering what I wanted today did you? I want to get out of the house. You must know that. But you're actually going to force me to stay here all day and night on MY BIRTHDAY?! Tell me you're joking mom." Clary finished exasperated, sucking in a large breathe.

Tears had formed in Jocelyn's eyes but she held them back. She had prepared herself for this sort of thing. But Clary's safety was more important then her feelings. One day Clary would understand. "Baby I know that you probably think this is unfair but it's for the best. I can't explain beyond that. But I'm telling you right now you're not leaving this house today. I'm sorry." Jocelyn braced herself for the response.

Clary stared at her, red faced and mouth gaping. "You're so full of bull shit! You only care about what you want. And then you wonder why I never wanna be around you! I'm not forgiving you for this. Ever." She stated and then ran up the stairs to her room. No way was her mom getting away with this.

At 6pm that evening Clary was still in her room, bored out of her skull. She had to get out of there. But she knew it wasn't gonna be easy. Even so, she whipped out her cell phone and texted Simon.

C: Hey. Meet me at the club n 30 min?

S: Sure. I thought u said u couldn't go?

C: Yea I still 'cant' so be there ok?

S: lol sure c u soon

Clary smiled despite herself. Even with her usual fireball nature, Simon was a weakness. He knew how to make even her smile. She cherished that, even though she would never be romantically interested in Simon. They had already tried. It felt wrong for the both of them. Shortly after Simon had found Isabelle, they were in love, and Clary was more then happy for them. Simon would still joke about those days, claiming Clary was too wrapped up in her dream prince to be interested in him. Even though it was a joke, there was some truth to it. Clary had been drawing her Dark Prince for about 3 years. Always the same image of him. Simon would laugh and say she was in love with her own drawings. Sometimes Clary would blush and laugh "I bet one day he's gonna come for me. And then ha ha to you." Simon would roll his eyes.

Clary sighed and got up from the floor, mentally preparing herself for her task. Somehow she'd get out of this house.


	2. Chapter 2

*Hours earlier*

After the fight with Clary, Jocelyn found herself sitting on the living room couch staring at a blank tv screen. Knowing Clary was away in her room and likely would not be coming out until absolutely necessary, Jocelyn let the tears fall.

She cried often, but never let Clary see. She was afraid to show her own daughter any weakness. This was because of one simple fact: Clary hated her. She pretended like it wasn't obvious for the sake of her own mind, but she knew. She could tell by the way Clary would glance at her during certain moments, eyes always filled with anger or annoyance. By the way she would sometimes speak harshly, only to begrudgingly apologize if it was in front of anyone. By the way Clary would never smile when she knew Jocelyn was watching. She knew because Clary only made a false effort to hide it, as if she wanted Jocelyn to eat herself up about it. And, sadly, that's exactly what she did.

It didn't used to be this way. Before Clary turned 6, she always wanted her mom. The way a child would. She would cry for Jocelyn to hold her, to rock her to sleep, to sing to her, and all the other things mothers would do. When Clary turned 6 that changed. She started to want Jocelyn less and less, and by the time she was 9 she avoided her mom as much as possible. Thinking back on the bright shade of green Clary's eyes used to be, Jocelyn cried harder. Now only specks of dark green were visible when looking at her. The rest of Clary's eyes were dark, almost black. And Jocelyn knew why, she could never forget. The blood of demons ran in her daughters veins.

Not a lot, only some. The larger quantities of angel blood in Clary, however, kept the demon blood from taking over completely. This mixture of blood in her daughter made her one of the most powerful shadowhunters alive. At the thought of the Nephilim Jocelyn sigh. Her upbringing into the world of demon hunting and her own shadowhunter blood called to her constantly. But Clary was more important then any of that. She would not lose her daughter to the Clave. Clary could never know she was a shadowhunter, a demonic one at that. She would never be excepted among them. She would never be left alone. And ... Jocelyn knew in her heart that if Clary had any idea of the power she possessed, she would be lost to darkness.

But it was not only the Nephilim Jocelyn hid from, it was her husband, Valentine Morgenstern, and their son Jonathan. Jocelyn had run when she was pregnant with Clary. Determined to keep her daughter from the same fate as her son. She didn't learn until later that she had failed. The experiments on her womb had already began again. Not as drastic as with Jonathan apparently, but enough. Enough to land Jocelyn right here, tears running down her face because of her daughter.

As the hours dragged on the dread in Jocelyn's stomach grew substantially. She knew at some point in this day, her front door would probably come down, and an 18 year old boy would probably come strolling through the hole, and slit her throat. And this boy she was expecting was her son. She could do nothing more then hope the wards, put up by a Warlock she hired, held. And some part of her naively hoped that maybe, just maybe, they didn't know where she was. But that was a lie. They knew, they would come. They would come for Clary. And Jocelyn would fight, as she always had, for her.

It was about 7pm and Jocelyn hadn't heard so much as a creek in the floorboards come from upstairs. "No no no no please don't be gone" Jocelyn thought as she ran up the stairs. Why would she assume Clary wouldn't sneak out? What had she been thinking? Throwing open Clary's door, she found her bedroom completely empty and her window open with the bed sheet flowing out. She cursed herself and fell to the floor. Would she ever see her daughter again? Would she want to? Jocelyn doubted both. And for the third time that day, she cried.


	3. Chapter 3

*Hours earlier*

Jonathan Morgenstern was standing in front of his mother's house. Well, the woman who gave birth to him. Jocelyn Fray was not, and would never be, his mother. Abandonment was something that didn't go away. Jocelyn left him, ran screaming from his father without bothering to even attempt to take him with her. She had gotten pregnant for the second time, and after that Jocelyn only concerned herself with one thing: protecting his sister. And damn anyone else. This was why Jonathan had assumed he'd hate his sister. She's grown up sheltered from all the dangerous things in the world, blissfully unaware that he, or his father for that matter, even existed. But as it turned out, he didn't hate Clary. He couldn't. She was just like him.

He'd been watching her for almost 2 years. Ever since his father had finally located her and Jocelyn, Jonathan had been sent to watch them. Why he had to wait to take her didn't make sense to him. He wanted to meet his sister face-to-face. He was tired of watching from afar. He was obsessed with her. From the green flecks in her dark eyes to her long locks of gorgeous red hair down to her short curvy little frame.

He cherished her features because, while they obviously came from Jocelyn, they were also very different from her height and brightness. And Clary obviously shared nothing of her mothers personality. Jonathan loved that. He loved anything that set Clary apart, that made her more similar to him and to Valentine. Which was why, after all this time, he was so excited to get his sister to join the ranks. To join him. He wanted her by his side probably more then he should. And today, for whatever obscure reason his father had, was finally the day for just that.

It was growing late in the evening and Jonathan was getting impatient. He really didn't want to have to go in there and gets his hands dirty. He didn't think he would have to, having heard the fight between Clary and her mom this morning. He had figured Clary would eventually get out. But as it got later he was growing impatient. He wanted to talk to her already.

Just as he was about to get up and attempt to get inside a sound came from Clary's window. While he watched, what appeared to be a rolled up bed sheet came tumbling out. Then a lithe figure with red flowing hair darted out and proceeded to shimmy down the sheet. He could hear her heart beating out of her chest from where he stood. He was proud that he knew her well enough to know she'd eventually come out.

Clary landed on the ground about 20 feet from where Jonathan stood in the bushes. As soon as she hit the cement she took off like a shot in the dark. Before Jonathan had blinked twice she was gone, disappeared into the night. "Shit!" He whispered harshly to himself, and then he took off in the direction she had gone. His little sister was faster then he thought. He smirked at the thought.

Once Clary had gotten a good enough distance away from her house, she stopped running. It was only a short walk left to the club, she figured she'd cut through the alleyway. But after a few turns Clary finally realized that all along her way she'd been hearing something. Footsteps. And breathing. She could feel someone watching her. How long had someone been following her? A few minutes? Since she left her house? What was the proper thing to do in this situation? Start running again? Clary didn't feel like running. And there was no point in pretending she was afraid. Whoever was following had another thing coming if they really thought she was gonna scream and be afraid of them.

She didn't have time for this. "I know you're there. Just come out so we can get this over with." She said to the mystery person. Of all the possibilities, Clary had never even considered who it was that emerged from the shadows.


	4. Chapter 4

**thank you so much to all of you who have reviewed and favorited this story I love to hear what you guys think and I hope you enjoy what's to come xoxo**

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><p>Since she was a small child, Clary rarely ever found herself caught off guard. She almost never experienced fear. Loss never hit her as hard as it had other kids around her. Those emotions simply did not have enough of a place in her heart. She never understood why of course, being ignorant to the world in which you belong is uncomfortable at best. And that's what Clary always had been in the human world she was raised in: uncomfortable. Never understanding, never being able to put together the pieces, shimmers of the world just behind the curtain. She'd been kept from all that. And while it was uncomfortable, it also meant she had never, not once, felt vulnerable.<p>

No one was a threat to her. No one had the upper hand on her. She was strong, quick, carried with her a sense of power, of being above others. But when the boy with the white hair and strikingly deep black eyes stepped out of the shadow, all that came tumbling down. Caught off guard was an understatement. She still didn't feel afraid. But she felt overwhelmed. And as those piercing eyes gazed at her she felt the one thing she didn't know she was capable of feeling: vulnerability.

And why? Because this boy wasn't just a boy. He was a fantasy. He was the boy, the prince, that Clary had been drawing for years.

She didn't understand how he could possibly be standing in front of her. How could he possibly be real? She began to wonder if she was dreaming. That was about the only thing that may actually make sense. Her prince didn't exist, he couldn't. He was just a drawing. She had only been joking when she had told Simon he might just come for her some day. Never had she imagined he actually would.

Clary knew how stupid she probably looked to him. Standing there with her mouth agape and her eyes as wide as a deer in headlights. As soon as she realized that she immediately tried to pull herself together. She refused to look like a fool in front of this gorgeous dream of a boy. And oh was he. As if he could hear her thoughts, he smirked.

Jonathan had been waiting for this moment for years. Meeting his beautiful little sister. He knew he probably looked calm, smirking at her like he knew everything she wanted to know. But he was more nervous then he could ever recall being. Never had he bothered to care what people thought of him. He knew women were attracted to him of course. And that men envied him. But beyond that he had never given a second thought to what impression he made on others in the short time he'd associate with them.

Being on the move constantly didn't exactly encourage relationships. He was acutely aware he wasn't actually prepared for knowing Clary. What would she think of him? Would she like him? But then again why wouldn't she like him? He knew her. She was just like him. Well, not quite. She'd never killed anyone. And she wasn't quite as bloodthirsty. But Jonathan assumed that was because of lack of opportunity and purpose. He was right. But being so much like him also meant patience wasn't her strong suit, neither was listening. Which was exactly what he needed her to be, and do, right now.

"Who the hell are you?" Clary asked with more force then she thought she had in her.

Jonathan's plastered smirk turned into a full blown cheeky grin. "My names Jonathan. I'm gonna need you to come with me."


	5. Chapter 5

**big thankyou to everyone reading this story and to Yaz for being my beta reader I don't know what I would do without you. Please guys continue reviewing I love to hear what you have to say :)**

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><p>"So what you're saying is you're gonna try to kidnap me?" Clary asked in disbelief. She was so tempted to just except it and go with him willingly, she was so drawn to him. She had to remind herself that she didn't actually know him. Even if she felt like she did.<p>

Jonathan paused for only a moment before answering. "No. Of course not. I want you to know something right now, I'm never gonna try to force you into anything Clary. And I'm never gonna hurt you. As if I even could. I want you to come with me because I need you to, but also because you want to. You do, don't you?" He tried not to let too much hope seep into his voice. He wanted this to be easy. He wanted her to want to come with him.

The questions came rushing from her lips as soon as he was done speaking. "What do you mean you need me? What do you need from me? How do you even know my name? And what do you mean 'as if you even could' hurt me? Who even are you?"

He sigh. "Look," he said and he stepped a little closer to her, causing her to be acutely aware of every inch between the two of them. She had to will herself to focus on his answers. "I can answer those questions and all of the other ones you'll have after getting those answers. But I can't explain it all right now. All you need to know for now is I know you because I've been watching you for almost 2 years. I know everything about you. And I know the things you don't even know about yourself. You're not human Clary. You're better then human. And you deserve to know who you really are. Don't you want that?"

Was he serious? She was better then human? Clary knew she was different from all the other kids, but she had always thought that was something that simply just was. Now this mystery boy, who she'd been drawing for years no less, follows her into an alley and tells her there's actually a reason for her being different? It made sense but also made no sense at all. This wasn't the movies. Humans were it. The best, the limit. Beyond that... No. There was no beyond that. He was lying. He was just some stranger. This was all just a weird occurrence she would explain away to herself later when she was drunk.

"You're lying. Or none of this is real. Either way this isn't true. I-I have to go." She started to turn from him, but he reached out and grabbed her arm. The electricity that shot through her from where he had touched her was unlike anything she had ever felt. She was instantly rooted to the spot. He didn't release her arm, and all she could feel was heat spreading from where his palm had a hold on her arm. "Let me go." She ordered after a few seconds. "No. You have to give me a chance to prove it. Please just give me a chance to show you." He told her.

After a few quiet moments she finally relented. "Fine. You have two minutes. How can you possibly prove this?"

Jonathan smiled. This was all he needed. He reached into the pocket of his gear and pulled out a stele and set to drawing the rune he and his father had searched for for years.

Valentine had known that Jocelyn had done something to Clary's Sight in order to prevent her from seeing the Shadow World. It took him years to find the spell Jocelyn's warlock had set on his daughter, and years more to find an easy and painless reverse to it. An ancient demonic rune lost in time, a rune only those with the blood of demons could bear. It was pure luck, but he knew it would work. This was the rune Jonathan was drawing on Clary's forehead now. He was less confident then his father, and was silently praying to whoever it was that would actually listen to him that this would work.

After it was done he stood back, and Clary opened her eyes.

Only a few seconds past before Clary frowned and said, "so what exactly did you just do to me?"

Jonathan smirked and took her hand. He waited just a second to see if she'd pull away. She didn't. He pulled her out of the alley and began walking her somewhere. Clary opened her mouth to say something, but Jonathan beat her to it. "I know this is more then 2 minutes but I don't know where else to go to show you the difference. Please just trust me." Clary sigh, no point in refusing now. She didn't really want to refuse him anyway.

Before long they ended up at what looked like a normal restaurant. She recognized the place. It was a Chinese takeout place she never bothered to step foot in. Or, at least, it had been the other day. Now the building was named "Taki's Diner" and the people inside... Well some of them didn't look like people at all.

As Clary stared, a girl she assumed by the clothing was supposed to be a waitress came out from the back room holding some menus. There was only one problem: the girl was completely blue. And her eyes didn't look like normal at all. Her whole being screamed "not human." And before Clary could completely process that, she snuck a peak at the people the girl was walking towards. They were stark white and cold looking. And as one opened their mouth to talk to the blue girl, Clary could have sworn she caught a hint of fangs. The word "vampire" rang through her mind.

No way. "What the fuck?" Clary demanded out loud. And when she looked over at Jonathan for an answer, he was smiling. Ear to ear.


	6. Chapter 6

**the chapter length isn't set by the way, they're gonna be as long as I need them to be :) thanks again **

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><p>Clary grabbed Jonathan by the arm and began to drag him behind the building. When Clary was sure no one was around she released his arm, ignoring the tingles that remained, and faced him.<p>

"Talk." Was all Clary said. She steeled herself, preparing to listen to the truth no matter what it was.

"I told you. I can't explain everything right here." He told her patiently.

"No. You don't get to say that. You have to tell me what you did to me. What were those ... Things? Do you even realize how I must be feeling right now? I don't even know you. And -" Clary breathed in, willing herself to calm down and stop acting like a child. It wasn't really the monsters. Maybe it was overly confident, but Clary thought she could take them anyway. She was just -

"Frustrated," Jonathan answered, "you're frustrated because you don't know what's going on and you hate that because you need to be in control to be comfortable. Can't be in control without all the information. Right?"

Clary only stared at him, unwilling to admit how spot on he was. That he actually did know her as well as he thought he did.

He smirked. "See Clary? I know you aren't afraid. Normal, mundane, girls would have tried to run away screaming bloody murder by now. A mundane would have run away in the alley. Not you. I know how you operate. How you think. You don't feel fear because even if you don't specifically think about it, your subconscious knows how strong and fast you are. Somewhere in that beautiful head of yours you know you have nothing to fear from almost anyone. I know it better then anyone because you and I? We're the same. And that's why you trust me, we're connected Clary. Even right now I can see it in your eyes that you believe me."

Clary sigh. There was no way she would ever learn how to say no to this boy. Half of her mind was still thinking about how he had called her beautiful during that speech. The other half was in complete agreement with everything else he had said. He had done it. He proved what he had told her before was the truth. There was nothing left now then to find out what was next.

"Fine," she relented, "what do you want me to do?"

Jonathan smiled wide, a grin that did something to Clary's emotions. She found herself smiling back almost unwillingly, she couldn't help herself. Oh what was she getting herself into.

"You have to come with me." He responded.

"Right. You said that before. I mean ... What does that mean? Where are we going and for how long? I might have to tell Simon - oh shit." Clary had totally forgotten about Simon. He was supposed to meet her at the club probably a half hour ago. She pulled out her phone. 12 text messages and 5 missed calls. Her mom had called her three times, the rest was from Simon.

Clary looked up at Jonathan apologetically, "I should probably call him back. Just - just give me a minute okay?" Then she made the call.

Simon picked up on the first ring. "What the hell Clary?" He exclaimed into the phone. She could hear the club music loud in the background. He'd probably been waiting for her this whole time.

Clary sigh. "I'm so sorry Simon. I-I can't come." She snuck a peak at Jonathan while she said it and he nodded in confirmation. No clubs for Clary today.

Simon blew out an exasperated breath through the phone. Then asked, "what happened? You couldn't make it out?"

"Not ... Exactly. Look I'll explain later okay? I'm really sorry. Call Isabelle maybe? Try to have fun. Love you." Then she hung up.

Jonathan understood why Clary loved Simon of course. She had grown up with Simon, he was her brother in all the ways that mattered. The heat of jealousy that flowed through Jonathan's body, though, apparently didn't get the memo. He shouldn't be jealous. He didn't want to be Clary's brother, not really, he just wanted to be close to her. And to hear her say she loved another boy, in any way, was uncomfortable for Jonathan. He pushed all that aside as she hung up the phone and looked up at him.

"Sorry about that." She told him.

"Stop saying your sorry. That's lesson one. Never apologize for anything. There's always a reason for everything you do. Remember that." He told her.

Clary was a little taken aback. Her mom had always chastised her for everything she did. Clary probably apologized fifty times a day for something she had done or said wrong in public. Saying sorry just flowed naturally. The idea that she wasn't supposed to apologize? It might have been the best thing Jonathan had said to her. "Okay." She said as a slow grin made it's way across her face. Jonathan smirked.

Clary was still grinning when she said, "so you were gonna tell me where we're going? How long am I gonna be gone?"

Jonathan looked at her for a few seconds. He was pretty sure she'd be ok with this but he wasn't sure. "Clary, you're not coming back." He said.

Clary's grin dropped, turned into confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You're not going back to your old life again Clary. If you come with me that's it. No more mundane school. No more living with Jocelyn. That part of your life is over. Are you okay with that?"

Clary's excitement grew with every word. There was only one problem, "Simon," she said, "what about Simon?"

Jonathan frowned, this was the difficult part. He needed to tread carefully. "You'll still be able to contact him sometimes if you want to, I don't know about in person honestly it depends. There are things to be done here in New York, but not right now. You may end up seeing your mother again too. But if you do it won't be for friendly visiting purposes, I don't think that really concerns you though."

Clary thought about it for only a minute. "Okay. As long as I can still talk to Simon, everything else is great with me."

Jonathan smiled and said, "good." Then he took her hand, she laced her fingers through his, and they blinked out of existence.


	7. Chapter 7

**as you guys have probably figured out, this is gonna be a pretty long fic. That wasn't really the plan in the beginning, but I feel like this deserves it. So I hope you guys stick around to enjoy everything to come. Xoxo **

**another thanks to Yaz for everything :3**

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><p>When Clary opened her eyes she was standing in the living room of a small one-bedroom apartment. Just by glancing around she could see almost the entirety of the space. The 'kitchen' was in the far right corner. It had 2 cabinets, a microwave, sink, stove, and fridge. Glancing to the left there was a door opened to reveal a small bedroom with a twin-sized bed, a dresser, dingy box tv, and a connected bathroom. The bathroom was the only good sized space. It had a shower, sink, a separate decently sized bathtub and, of course, a toilet. Right next to her was a couch.<p>

It looked like a space that could be in any one-stop motel in the country. Why would Jonathan take her here? That thought sent her back to reality, and she glanced down at where her hand was still laced with his. He noticed, and smirked. Then he released her hand.

Clary opened her mouth to say something, but Jonathan spoke first. "It's getting late. Let's just save all the questions for morning okay? I swear tomorrow you'll start getting your answers."

"Fine." Clary agreed, she was tired anyway. It was probably only around 8, but after everything that had happened in the last 2 hours alone Clary thought she could probably use some sleep.

"There's some clothes that'll probably fit you under the sink in that bathroom. Find something to sleep in." He told her, and then plopped himself down on the couch.

Ten minutes later Clary was laying in the bathtub, trying to let herself relax. But there was a problem. The most attractive boy Clary had ever laid her eyes on was just outside the door, and she kept slipping into a fantasy about what it would be like if he came in and got in the bath with her. Clary was a virgin, but it wasn't because of principle or anything like that. It was because she had never found someone she wanted in that way. But apparently that had changed.

Clary could just imagine what it would feel like for him to have his hands on her. To make her moan and ...What the hell? She barely knew him. Except that she did. He was right when he had said they were connected. It was unfathomable and yet... She felt that pull. That want for him, his presence, his body, she wanted him with her. It was all completely ridiculous.

She was making herself all hot and bothered with the thought of him all over her. She needed to stop. Finally she gave up on relaxing. She washed her body and hair quickly after that and within minutes she was drying off. She found the clothes Jonathan had told her about under the sink and ended up in a pair of gray sweats and a purple t-shirt. She put her hair into a sloppy sleep style bun and left the bathroom.

Jonathan was laying on the small bed flipping through empty channels with a glazed over expression. He was in only a pair of black sweats. No shirt or anything else. Clary's cheeks flamed at the sight of his abs and she tried not to stare at him. Finally she gathered her thoughts. "Where am I gonna sleep?" She asked curiously. Jonathan smiled and looked at her. Then said, "right here," and patted the space beside him.

Clary blinked at him. Surely he couldn't mean they were supposed to sleep in the same bed. After minutes of just looking at each other Clary finally realized he was serious. "Um... Okay," she said, and came towards the bed. She carefully maneuvered herself on the small bed, trying not to make any contact with his body as she did so. He, in a way that felt deliberately slow to Clary, reached over her body and turned out the light on the dresser beside her. The skin of his arm just barely made contact with her shoulder, and it was enough to make her breath hitch. Sometime shortly after, though, the exhaustion took Clary and she fell asleep.

Jonathan knew exactly what he was doing. He had picked the place with the smallest amount of living space, the smallest bed, the smallest rooms, everything. The closer he and Clary were forced to be the better. Jonathan didn't want to be Clary's brother, he wanted Clary. He wanted to be her lover. Her other half. The person who completed her. He wanted to know what it felt like to kiss her, touch her. He wanted to see all of her, to be inside her. But he didn't want to take all those things, he wanted Clary to want them too. He wanted her to give him those things. And he felt confident she would, if he played all his cards the right way. He was prepared to do whatever it took.

His father had told him to teach her and to train her yes, but he never said Jonathan couldn't have any fun. Getting Clary to fall for him the way he had fallen for her, that would be fun. From this moment on every touch, every word, every glance, would have meaning. He would show her how much he loved her and wanted her. He'd do whatever it took. But he wouldn't admit to anything until she did. As Clary fell asleep right next to him, he resisted the urge to reach out and touch her. Tomorrow, he told himself, tomorrow.


	8. Chapter 8

**hey guys I feel like I took a little longer to update this time so sorry for the wait, I'm usually good about quick updates I promise :3 please continue to read and review :) **

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><p>The first thing Clary became aware of after slowly coming into consciousness was that she had been sleeping for a decent amount of time longer then she usually did, probably about 11 hours. The second was her position. Her head was on Jonathan's chest, her arm draped over him, and her leg resting in between his. She didn't want to move. At all.<p>

She began to wonder what he would do if he woke to find her all over him like this. Clary liked the thought, and she closed her eyes and pretended to go back to sleep. She even repositioned herself to a more comfortable, closer position. This might be the only chance she had to touch him without making her attraction to him overly obvious. She wasn't going to waste it.

As she there Clary started to think about everything. It hadn't even been a full day since she had left her house and everything had changed so drastically. Here she was, laying in a dingy twin sized bed with a strange boy who had told her she was more then a human. How had she gotten here? And this boy, why did she trust him so much? Why was she so content with laying here on top of him? Well she knew the answer to the last part. He was gorgeous.

She risked opening her eyes again and peered up at his face. His eyes were still closed, his face relaxed and innocent looking. His features were absolutely perfect. She couldn't find a single flaw about him. He looked like he was carved out of precious gold and then spelled to life. His lashes were long and dark, the kind every girl dreamed of having. His hair white, too white to really be called blonde, but for some reason it simply worked. It didn't look dead and lifeless like white hair did on older people. It complimented his perfect tone and completion.

His body was something otherworldly. He was muscled but not overly muscled or bulky like a body builder would be. His abs were rock hard, though, Clary could feel it, especially because the only thing between them and Clary's skin was her flimsy cotton shirt. He was 6 feet of perfection. Clary hoped he'd sleep longer, she didn't want to have get off of him.

The trust, though, she didn't quite understand yet. She knew she should be more then a little skeptical of everything he said, but she wasn't. He wasn't going to lie to her, and he wasn't going to hurt her. She believed that wholeheartedly. Against all rational reasoning she knew she'd probably do anything for this boy. And as she lay there, she decided to simply except that. Questioning and wasting time with hesitation wasn't helping anyone. From now on she was going to stop questioning the pull she felt towards him, and embrace it.

She was ready to trust him, fight with him, anything he needed her to do she would do it. It felt right, and that would be the only confirmation she needed from here on out.

Waking up to find Clary curled up on his figure had been the most pleasant thing Jonathan had experienced in quite a long while. He felt the heat of her at every point her body was touching his, and it was lovely. He had simply continued to lay there for about a half hour until he felt Clary wake. He closed his eyes, not wanting the fact that he was already awake effect what she might do when she realized her compromising position.

First, she had stiffened, and he struggled to not smile and blow it right there. Then, to his surprise she relaxed and she even put herself right on top of him. He could feel her breasts through her shirt as they rested on his lower abs. She laid her head back on his chest, right under his chin this time. Jonathan began to wonder if she knew he was awake. No. How could she? She didn't know how strong her senses were yet, he hadn't taught her anything. She had to think he was asleep.

He guessed that was why she was being so forward, because if he was asleep it wasn't forward at all. Tricky girl, but he knew better. She was attracted to him. He smirked at the thought and wondered how long he could lay here before he had to 'wake up.' It wasn't very long.

Last night he had set an alarm to be sure they were awake by 8am. Then, he had been thinking it was important she start learning today. Now, he was very annoyed with himself. He had been enjoying laying in bed with her, and it was his own fault it was over.

Clary 'woke' with a start, annoyance washing all over her features for only a few seconds before she carefully schooled her face. He smiled at how cute it was, she was really going to keep up the pretense that she hadn't been awake the whole time. He had to force himself not to full on laugh.

"You set an alarm?" She asked in a voice laced with distain.

He smiled wider, "I think that's kind of obvious isn't it?," he responded, then answered seriously, "we need to get started, there's a lot you have to hear."

Clary's annoyance faded at the idea of finally getting some answers. She slowly lifted herself off of him, trying not to ignite the now charged air between their bodies as she did so, and rolled off the bed. "Fine. Five minutes." She told him, then turned and made her way to the bathroom. Right before she shut the door, "put on a shirt" she ordered. Then she locked herself in.


	9. Chapter 9

**hey guys, thanks again for reading. I love your reviews thanks so much for all the smiles :) keep 'em coming **

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><p>"So what you're saying is ... I'm basically a demon?"<p>

Jonathan and Clary were sitting on the floor across from each other in the center of their tiny motel space while Jonathan had been trying to find a way to say everything in the least offensive way, until he had given up and come right out with it.

"No. Technically speaking you're a half demon half angel. You carry the blood of both." He told her as simply as he could. Clary, though, seemed to be having a hard time excepting it. Perhaps it hadn't been best to open up with 'so first you should know you're full of demon blood' clearly it hadn't been the best approach. Jonathan sigh.

"Look it isn't the way you're thinking... Well I mean ... It's not as bad as you're thinking."

Clary looked at him. "No no. That actually makes perfect sense."

Jonathan was stunned. He had assumed he would have to talk her into believing that. Once he had excepted his blood and embraced the strength and malice it had given him, he enjoyed it. He didn't have to be held down by human emotions. Didn't have to be ashamed of his love for his sister. Didn't have to feel guilty for the lives he's taken or the pain he'd inflicted. He also got to take advantage of his strength and senses. The blood meant he had no rules, nothing to tie him down. It wasn't a curse. But he didn't think she'd realize that right away. He had been prepared to list out every benefit, to consul her for hours. But he saw it in her eyes, she already understood.

Clary continued, feeling the need to explain herself. "It just ... I've always been cold I guess. Wasn't as emotional as other girls. Well I mean you'd know, you watched me for a while right? Sometimes Jo would look me in the eyes and search for something, and then she'd tear up," Clary paused to roll her eyes, "... She knew didn't she? About the blood. That's why she never trusted me about anything. Because to her I'm just some demon?"

"She knew yeah, so probably." Jonathan admitted.

"Wow. She's even more of a bitch then I thought. Wait ... But how? People aren't just born with demon blood sometimes right? How was I? ... And what about you? You said you're like me, you have the blood too? How?" Clary couldn't help herself, the questions were just pouring out. She forced herself to pause and let him answer some.

"Your m- Jocelyn was experimented on. She was injected with the stuff when you were in the womb. She ... Escaped before you got a lot in you though. But demon blood still trumps angel blood. It's just how it is."

Clary only looked at him, communicating with her eyes that she was expecting answers to the other questions too.

"Fine. Yes I'm like you. I was tested on too, the same way. Trial one I guess. I have, I would imagine, quite a bit more of the stuff in my veins then you. The person who experimented on us, gave us these gifts, he's decided he wants you back now." Jonathan knew what Clary would ask next.

"Who am I ... Who are we to him? He did that to us for a reason right. What's the connection?"

Jonathan studied her face for a moment, trying to decide how she'd take this before he said it. "He's your father Clary, that's who I work for, that's why I'm here. Your father."


	10. Chapter 10

**wow double digits guys lol hopefully you like it. Sorry it was more of an explaining chapter but had to be done. It'll get better from here on I promise :) please continue the reviews :s **

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><p>"My fathers dead," Clary told him, "I watched him die. His name was Luke. Some people broke in when I was 11, they shot him in the head right in front of Jo and me. How could he even be alive?"<p>

"Lucian Graymark, or Luke whatever, he wasn't your father Clary. Not your birth father anyway. My ... boss told me he died. Didn't say how. I'm sorry you had to see it, though." His voice was full of compassion, something he wasn't used to feeling. Clary clearly meant more to him then anyone else.

To his surprise, Clary rolled her eyes. "Don't be. And don't pity me. I'm not sad he died. At the time I thought I was horrible for that, but it just didn't hit me that hard. The men left and Jocelyn fell apart, screaming and crying and everything else. But I just kinda stood there, like 'oh Luke is dead.' ... I never really felt like he was my father anyway. So I guess it does make sense.

He showed up when I was like 8, Jo told me he'd been in jail. That was probably a lie. Whatever. All he'd ever do is order me around and look at me like he was disappointed I existed. At the funeral I remember I had to work to pretend I was upset. I think Jo saw it through it though..."

Jonathan relaxed, it was easier if Clary wasn't sensitive to all this. "Don't bother with what she thinks of you, she's obviously a worthless liar you know that."

"I know. So ... Who is my father then? What's the story?" She asked, maybe Dad 2.0 would be a more tolerable one.

Jonathan smiled only slightly. "His names Valentine Morgenstern. He used to be very loved among the Nephilim. Now he's shunned and despised by them."

"Wait what's the Nephilim?" Clary asked.

"We're the only people who have demon and angel blood in our veins, but there are others who have been favored by angels. Those who have drank the blood of the angel Raziel, or their children, are called shadowhunters. The shadowhunters are referred to as the Nephilim. Your father and mother are both of Raziel.

That's where the angel blood in you comes from. Me as well. Except you ... You have a little extra," Jonathan waved away the next question, "more experiments. Nothing you need to worry about."

"So you're saying Jo, my scatter brained hipster mother, is some angel warrior? Forgive me that's a little difficult to believe." Clary said stubbornly.

"Yes she was, is. She never went back to the Nephilim after the experiments so that you wouldn't be raised a warrior like her." Jonathan tried to keep the anger at Jocelyn out of his voice. He'd always be bitter he was abandoned, but he was also bitter that his sister had been taken from him too. If he had been there with her, she wouldn't need Simon or anyone else. It would have always just been Jonathan and Clary.

It wasn't fair that he had to live all that time without her, no one to understand him. She was his little sister, the one he loved, and they deserved to be raised together. It was Jocelyn's choice that kept them apart. And he hated her for that more then anything. But maybe it was better this way. He wasn't sure why he was in love with Clary as opposed to loving her like a brother would. Like Simon apparently did. Maybe it was because they had been separated that he fell in love with her. He put his sidetracked thoughts on pause, and focused back on Clary.

"It's not fair that she made that choice for me. I was meant to be a warrior, I deserved it. Didn't I?" She said looking him in the eye.

"Yes. You're strong, fast, and have amazing abilities you couldn't even comprehend yet. She shouldn't have taken you from ... She shouldn't have made that choice for you." He had almost said from him. He couldn't imagine having to explain that one yet.

"But the Nephilim aren't everything Clary. I doubt they would have excepted you anyways if they knew your true nature. They're arrogant and stubborn. They're misguided by corrupt leaders and they've forgotten their own mission. And above all they are prejudice. Against warlocks, werewolves, and vampires. Even against those among them. Any relation to demons spurs hatred, no matter the cause or fault. It might be better that you were never among them."

Clary nodded, that made sense. Being raised beside people who would hate who she really was, even if it wasn't her fault, was obviously not appealing. "At least I'm here now. This is the part where you teach me to be that warrior right? How to fight like you can I assume?" She tried not to sound too excited. Growing up her mother never wanted her to be tough. Jo wanted Clary to just be a girl, do girl things, complain about girl problems.

Clary wasn't supposed to be strong or anything else like that. Now that she knew why, it was almost funny. Jocelyn thought she could change her from the outside in. It was ridiculous.

Jonathan's lips went up at the corners, like he was excited for the both of them. "Yeah. You're training starts now."


	11. Chapter 11

**hey guys, love seeing your reviews and thanks so much to everyone who follows this story. Much love to you all :3 **

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><p>Clary face planted into her mattress and groaned into her blanket. All she ever was these days was tired. She couldn't recall a time when her muscles didn't ache with every movement. It was getting better though. It had been 3 weeks since Clary had began her training with Jonathan, and it was moving painstakingly along.<p>

Jonathan had told her that shadowhunters spend years training as warriors, and he was attempting to give her enough training to take them on, even beat them, in a month. It was impossible. Yes, she was strong and she could take anyone down, but her movements were "sloppy" and "inexperienced." But he told her that she was becoming more skilled every day. She knew how to maneuver her body and use her strength as an advantage instead of an uncontrollable force. He said a few more weeks and she might be able to beat him in a fight.

She wasn't sure she believed that though. Jonathan was good. Like extremely good. Every move, he seemed to know how to counteract it before she even made it. And he was certainly just strong as her. She'd only bested him a handful of times, where he'd beaten her hundreds. It didn't matter, he said, it was all about the practice. Yeah well, practice sucked.

Jonathan promised, though, that it wasn't all for nothing. Soon she'd get 'the ok' and he and her mystery father would release her into the world to kick some ass. Clary smiled. She wanted to beat and punch and destroy people she hated. She was tired of trying to beat someone she actually liked. That thought erased the smile from her face.

Things with Jonathan were so complicated. Since they had moved into Jonathan's apartment, which was amazing and probably her favorite place in the world, Clary had been enjoying her own space. But with that the possibility of cuddling in bed and whispered moments in the dark had vanished. The only time they were close was when they were training, and while that gave her ample opportunity to touch and admire his body, Clary was a little distracted by her screaming muscles and throat to do much else but punch and kick and dodge and repeat.

Clary sigh and flipped over to look at the ceiling. She liked everything about Jonathan. He was dark and intriguing and sexy. But beyond that, he was caring in a way not many people got to see. He would burn down the world for one person if he loved them, and Clary admired that more then anything. It was like he was meant for her, but he was never forthcoming about feelings. Sometimes he'd walk up and stroke her face, her hair, or touch her shoulder and then he'd just walk away or pretend he hadn't touched her at all. But it drove her crazy.

She wanted him bad. She'd had dreams where he'd finally kissed her. Where he'd admitted his feelings for her. Where he'd touched her in all the right places. Where he'd finally taken her virginity. But every time she'd just wake up. It made her want to scream, but she was prepared to wait.

She knew he had feelings for her, at least she was sure of that, it was only a matter of when he'd act on them, if ever. Or maybe he expected her to act first. She wasn't going to do that. He was the one who came into her life and made her fall for him. If he wanted her, all he had to do was take her. So she'd wait. Forever if she had to. The thought was frustrating beyond belief. Maybe she'd end up cracking, she didn't know.

Clary sat up from her bed and went over to her drawers, deciding her clothes were too sweaty to relax on her bed in. As she was rummaging through her meager supply of clothing she noticed something shiny pushed towards the back of the drawer. Surprise flooded through her. It was her cell phone. She hadn't given a thought to her cell phone for weeks. Simon. "Shit." Clary whispered to herself, and pushed the button to turn the phone on.

As soon as it lit up a million messages and calls flooded the screen. The majority was from her mother, but at least 20 were from Simon. The latest message was over a week old. Clary cursed herself again and pressed the call option beside Simon's name. He picked up immediately. "Clary what the fuck?!" He all but screamed into the phone. Clary sigh.

"Simon look calm down," she began, "I can explain everything."

"Explain what Clary?! How you basically ran away?! You know I freaked out when I came over the next day and you weren't there. Your mom has been a complete wreck. There are actual missing posters all over town with your face on them! How could you do this?!" He was fuming.

"Look. I promise I'm fine. I'll tell you everything, but you have to tell Jo to stop looking for me. She needs to let me go. Take the signs down." Clary ordered, her voice strong.

"Clary. You don't get it. It's too late for all that. You've been gone for weeks. Everyone is already looking." He told her carefully.

This gave Clary pause. She didn't exactly have friends. The only people in her life, before Jonathan, had been Simon and her mother. There was no 'everyone.' "... Who's everyone?" She asked slowly.

"The police. Even in other cities. Amber alerts and everything Clary. Your mom isn't going to let you go."


	12. Chapter 12

**omg guys I'm soooo sorry about the wait. Sometimes I just get really busy but I promise I'm not going to abandon this fic, it may just take me a little longer sometimes to update but I will do my best. Thanks for the patience and please continue to review :) I wanna know what y'all think. **

**Ps y'all heard about the tmi tv show right omg talk to me about that. I for one am really hopeful and excited :3 **

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><p>"I have to leave" Clary said as she barged into Jonathan's bedroom.<p>

He straightened his back and his eyes opened a little wider. But Clary began explaining before he could say anything.

"Not how you're thinking. I'm gonna come back, you can even come with me. But I have to talk to Jo." She told him.

Jonathan's surprise turned to confusion. "Why the hell would you want to go see her?" He demanded.

Clary rolled her eyes. "I don't want to go see her. Ever again. I have to. I just found out from Simon that she's told the police and everyone else on the planet that I've been kidnapped or whatever. I have to tell her to stop hunting me down like some animal, I don't want people out there looking for me" she explained.

Jonathan visibly relaxed, his features going back to normal. "Clary. It's not a big deal. I figured when you came with me that Jocelyn would take drastic action to get you back, and I won't let her. She won't find you. No one will find you. You have to trust me on that."

"But that people are even looking... Isn't that bad for us?" She asked. She really didn't want to have to go see Jo. She hated the woman deeply, especially now that she knew Jocelyn had lied about pretty much everything important to Clary. But the threat of being forced back into that life, taken from the boy sitting in front of her, the boy she was pretty sure she might be in love with, was very uncomfortable to say the least. She didn't want to have to deal with that worry.

Jonathan was about to come back with some empty words about how everything was fine again when he saw it in her eyes. Actual worry. He was floored. Didn't she get it by now? No one was going to be able to control her, ever again. She was too skilled, contained too much power. That was the whole point to this, to everything. They fought and trained and worked every day to build on the strength and endurance she possessed, at this point there was no reason whatsoever she should feel vulnerable. Especially not to someone so non threatening as her mother. But here she was, visibly nervous at the thought of being "found." Maybe he had been naive to think Clary would really get it so quickly. She was only a teenage girl after all. She'd been so miserable growing up that she had completely and willingly left behind everything she'd known to come with him, having hardly any knowledge at the time of what she was getting herself into. Of course she'd assume her mother still had power over her, she'd told Clary what to do and be and say her whole life. Jonathan chastised himself, of course she was worried, how could he have not understood that.

He patted the space beside him on his bed, beckoning Clary to come sit down next to him. She smiled, just two little quirks at the edge of her lips, but it was still cute. Then she went over and sat next to him. She tried to hide her surprise when he pulled her down on him and laid down. It was the most direct affection he'd shown her in weeks.

Jonathan felt Clary momentarily stiffen when he pulled her down to lay next to him. He thought back on the last few weeks, he'd been so distracted with training her he'd let his romantic plans for them fall flat. She probably had no idea how he felt about her. He had to do something about that.

"Why are you still worried about your old life catching you?" He asked her.

Clary relaxed into him and answered honestly. "Because ... If she finds me she's never going to let me leave her. She'd certainly never let me see you again."

"Clary. What makes you think that she gets to decide whether or not to 'let' you do anything? Don't you know by now that she doesn't control you anymore?" Clary stayed silent, so he kept speaking, "you're more powerful then her. She's the one who needs to fear you. And you don't owe her any explanations. She has no control over your life, Clary, none."

He felt her take in a breath. "So if anyone found me...?" She began.

"You'd have no trouble at all getting away. And if by some strange occurrence you can't, which won't happen, I will always find you. It's you and me Clary." He comforted her.

She turned her head and looked up at him. His black eyes were the most mesmerizing thing about him, she could stare into them all day. To some people, they may be a sign of his darkness. His malice. But Clary only saw a representation of his depth. That he could be so threatening and dangerous, but then have the ability to hold her in his arms and comfort her. Laying there Clary knew she'd never let anyone, especially not her weak and ditzy mother, come between her and this boy. So what if anyone ever found her, Clary would simply kill them. Jonathan was right, she was stronger. And she'd do anything to stay by his side.


	13. Chapter 13

**sorry about the wait. How about that PSAT tho -_- **

**anyways enjoy the chapter, more will be up soon **

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><p>Clary hit the wall on the far side of the room. Hard. Jonathan must have used all his strength against her that time. She had overestimated the power of her blow, an all but fatal error. The searing pain that shot through her body as it was flung against the wall and hit the floor was a testament to that. She hated when he threw her like that, but she loved it when it was his body hitting walls. She was nearly positive no ordinary shadowhunter would be able to accomplish that sort of feat against either of them, but they threw each other around anyway.<p>

The last time she'd collided with the barrier her arm had been fractured, but that was easily dealt with with more nifty symbols he'd draw on her. She never asked about them though, sure they were probably some shadowhunter thing she'd get a long and boring history lesson about later. But this time nothing was injured, and she instantly sprang back up and barreled toward him, dodging a punch and landing a swift kick on his lower abdomen. She was rewarded with a grunt.

This was how they'd spent there whole day so far, and many more days before it. Jonathan had dragged Clary out of bed, where they'd both slept for weeks now, at 4am each morning. Then told her, once she was in her gear, simply to "fight him." The first time she'd only stared at him and he had simply smirked, and kicked her legs out from under her. Her eyes had flown open wide and it had taken a few more pointed blows before she had finally got up off her ass and started fighting.

The first few days had been brutal. Before then they hadn't been working on any sort of direct bombat, and that had been a wake up call. Now, it had been weeks, and she was almost as good as he was. He hadn't been surprised she'd picked up so fast, or that she could hold her own. The first time he'd hit the room's barrier, he'd only smiled. Being flung through the air and slammed into a wall by your protégé must have been a pleasant thing by the way he had acted.

She'd only been able to do it about 6 times since then, while he'd thrown her plenty, but she was still confident about it. That was another thing he'd been gradually building, her confidence. Since the day she'd tried to go see Jocelyn, Jonathan hadn't tolerated any of Clary's tendency to bag on herself. He shut it down each time, telling her that if she really thought that she wouldn't be there. And there was nothing Clary wanted more then to be with Jonathan and to succeed in everything she was attempting.

She was inspired and her strength was progressing even further. Each time he landed a blow it only encouraged her to work harder. So they punched and kicked and beat and flung each other all day. 7 hours of beating then eat then 7 more and stop. Later on in the day was when he'd just hang out with her. They'd talk and laugh and mock each other. Mostly flirt. Then they'd both lay down on Jonathan's bed, Clary hardly used hers these days, and go to sleep together.

She was falling in love with him, and she thought he probably was too. But when they battled none of those things mattered, it was only sweat and working muscles and cracking bones and sometimes blood.

Clary liked it this way. Her soul felt at piece, as if it had wanted to be fierce and wild all her life, and had simply been kept from being so. Violence was oddly welcomed, and it provided her comfort. She imagined it probably did the same for Jonathan, which was why these days he always seemed to be smiling. He was definitely happier then he had been when she was just hitting punching bags and learning how to do round house kicks. Back then she had felt hopeless, now she felt nothing but power. And her soul was basking in the glory of it.

Jonathan pinned Clary to the floor by both her arms and she smiled up at him, breathing ragged and heavy. He smiled too as sweat dripped off his body in sheets. "You do better every day" he told her.

She smiled wider, "I know." He smirked, "still not as good as me though."

She fake pouted with her bottom lip, her eyes shinning with wicked humor.

"Oh don't pout you adorable girl" he begged her mockingly while he placed his hand over his heart in pretend hurt.

She giggled. He was still on top of her, and it was moments like this she wanted him more then ever. As if he could hear her thoughts, his pupils dilated and his grin turned into an enraptured sort of look.

Ten agonizing seconds later he rolled off of her and stood up, offering her his hand. She took it and let him pull her into his arms. Their faces once again brought close and then he said, "break time."

She rolled her eyes and stepped away from him, heading towards the kitchen.


	14. Chapter 14

**sorry about the wait here's two chapters for your troubles. Review :3 **

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><p>It was about 2am in the morning and Clary was laying on Jonathan's chest. He was fighting the urge to go to sleep like he usually would, but he couldn't do that. Not tonight. The note he had received early in the day told him he had responsibilities.<p>

These past couple months with Clary in this beautiful apartment watching her become a warrior had been probably the best of his life. But what he knew, and what she didn't, was that it was probably going to come to a close soon. He'd find out for sure in an hour or so. Jonathan sigh.

He was sure Clary was sleeping heavily. And he began to slowly inch himself out from under her little form. He was agile, but her senses were as strong as his. He couldn't have her waking. Finally he got himself off the bed and held his breathe for a few moments to be sure she wouldn't wake. Then he began moving. He quietly snuck out of the room and grabbed some gear from the massive closet in the hall. Then he exited the apartment through the unseen door.

He snickered, remembering Clary's constant grumbling that she didn't know where the door was. She had been allowed in by portal, and she hadn't left since. He shook off the thought, and the brisk fall air hit his skin as he stepped into it. Then he walked into the night.

Twenty minutes later Jonathan arrived at a glamoured building. It probably looked like a warehouse, but in reality it was just a small house. Not welcoming looking at all either way you saw it. He walked forward and opened the door. He was greeted with silence, finding himself in a dark little room.

"Dad." He called. He knew his father was here. This was the address he'd been sent.

Not 5 moments later came Valentines voice. "Son," he said from a few rooms down, "over here."

Jonathan found his father sitting on a small couch sipping coffee. "This stuff is dreadful. If it wasn't so early I couldn't imagine ever drinking it." Valentine told him.

Jon rolled his eyes. "You called because you wanted a report right? Why did we have to meet? I could have just written you one" he said not bothering with pleasantries.

"It was time I saw you again my son. I trusted this was the only time you'd be able to escape Seraphina's eyes. But yes, how is my daughter. Has she made any further progress?" He seemed genuinely interested. Valentine wasn't soft by any means, but he did seem to have a soft spot for his children. Even his adoptive son, but Jonathan didn't particularly like thinking about angel boy. He cleared the resentment from his thoughts and answered his father.

"Clary," he said her name pointedly, "is continuing to exceed expectations. As you know, everything you told me about her potential was right. She catches on very fast. She already can take me down a third of the time. She's better then any shadowhunter you've seen I'd bet on it. And her strength... we have an unbelievable weapon in her father." He had to force himself to be concise and avoid going on and on about Clary. He knew his father wouldn't like the way in which he regarded her. Siblings meant the same thing to Valentine as it did to humans and to the Clave. Jonathan's attraction to Clary wouldn't be met with encouragement.

Valentine narrowed his eyes. He didn't like his daughters name, didn't acknowledge it, even if his son did. But at the moment it was a non-issue. For now all he said was, "good."

Jonathan nodded, relieved in that he hadn't been made in his 'unholy' affection.

"It sounds as though she is ready then." Valentine admitted. Jonathan tried to keep his face composed, even though he was disappointed. He had been right earlier, the fun times with Clary were coming to a close soon.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked.

"The final step is for Seraphina to prove her allegiance and her blood lust. There is someone I need dead. And it's going to be her job to carry it out." Valentine ordered.

Jonathan wasn't surprised it would be something extreme like this. But he knew it wouldn't be a problem for Clary, as long as it wasn't some child. He imagined she'd have a problem with that. But there was no reason Val would want a child dead. "Who?" He asked.

"Robert Lightwood. It is imperative he dies. Maryse is growing tired of her husband, and she has asked me, finally, to be rid of him. She is on our side Jonathan, and when I take the Clave she will be my wife at last." Valentine answered.

This didn't surprise Jonathan. Valentine talked constantly about his regret toward marrying Jocelyn and not Maryse. Maryse had taken it in stride, though, married her long time friend Robert. Had two children with the man. But Maryse grieved Valentine when the Clave presumed he was dead. And when he'd returned to her only recently she had been bitter, leaving one to die at an uprising, dying, and then returning to them years later didn't inspire much trust. Apparently, though, she had come back around. Good. They needed as many as possible on their side.

"Very well," Jonathan responded, "I'll fill Clary in. Robert will be taken care of within a few days."

Valentine nodded at him. "Good. And then you may bring my daughter to me."


	15. Chapter 15

Clary was only half asleep when she felt Jonathan stir underneath her. She came back to herself quickly, and almost opened her eyes before she decided not to. This had never happened before, him attempting to sneak away from her in the middle of the night. She was simply too curious what was happening to make her consciousness known.

She stayed perfectly still as he stopped breathing for a few moments and then made his way out of the room. When she heard the door shut quietly she immediately got up. She grabbed a normal tank top and yoga pants from the chair in the corner, put them on quickly, and then quietly opened the bedroom door after Jonathan.

To her relief he was still here. She watched as he threw on the last of his gear. It was fast, but she still appreciated the amount of skin she got to view while attempting to hide from even his peripheral vision. The one benefit of being trained by him was she could predict his moves, his senses, and his line of vision. She mentally thanked her lucky stars she could hold her breath for a long time.

Before long, though, he was on the move. She watched with ever growing curiosity as he went over to the living room wall and tapped it. To her amazement, the wall opened and Jonathan stepped out. Clary was dumbfounded, all that complaining about not knowing where the door was and it was right there the entire time. It probably only opened to his pointed touch.

As soon as this thought hit her, she dashed forward and barely made it through the exit before it shut completely. The cold air slapped her skin as she sprang into it. Jonathan was already almost out of sight, his back disappearing around a corner about 15 feet away. Clary followed him into the night, not looking back.

Clary stalked Jonathan through a city she'd never seen, but she didn't bother trying to figure where she was. Nothing mattered but keeping pace. It was tricky business trying not to lose Jonathan but also keeping a far enough distance from him that he may not sense her. She didn't have the capacity to pay attention to surroundings or check for landmarks.

Eventually Jonathan came to a stop in front of a warehouse. Wait... Maybe it wasn't a warehouse. Clary blinked. The warehouse wasn't a warehouse anymore. She shrugged. Must be a shadowhunter thing she hadn't been filled in on yet, there seemed to be a lot of those. Now she could see a small unwelcoming house. After a few moments Jonathan made his way to the front door and stepped inside, Clary dashing after him. Just as the door shut behind him Clary mounted the steps.

"Dad" she heard Jonathan's voice say loudly. Dad? He never talked about his parents. He hadn't given her any sort of inclination at all that he even had any parents to speak of. Why was he meeting his dad in some random neighborhood home. With the lights off no less.

"Son, over here." A voice called back to Jonathan. Clary heard footsteps, and she imagined Jonathan walking towards the voice. She decided to take a risk, and as carefully as she had ever done anything in her life, opened the door and stepped inside. No one gasped in surprise, so she knew she hadn't been noticed. She darted behind one of the walls and began to listen intently. She needed answers as to why the hell Jonathan was here. And she was more curious then ever about his mystery father. He never talked about himself, this was probably her only opportunity to learn about his family. Invitation and secrecy be damned, she was a demon right. She mentally sigh.

The voice of an older man began to speak again. "This stuff is dreadful," it said, "if it wasn't so early I couldn't imagine ever drinking it." Clary could smell the coffee from here, and she agreed it was not a pleasant taste.

Jonathan made a scoffing noise. "You called because you wanted a report right? Why did we have to meet? I could have just written you one" he sounded annoyed. It wasn't something Clary was accustomed to, as he rarely got annoyed with her, but it wasn't shocking at all. Clary knew Jonathan's temper was short, she couldn't exactly judge that trait as she possessed it too.

His father's voice sounded very controlled when he responded, as if he was also annoyed but letting it go. "It was time I saw you again my son. I trusted this was the only time you'd be able to escape Seraphina's eyes. But yes, how is my daughter. Has she made any further progress?"

A million thoughts raced through Clary's mind at those words. Seraphina? Daughter? Jonathan had a sister named Seraphina? And what was that about escaping her eyes? The only eyes on Jonathan for the past months had been her own. She was more sure of that then anything. And then, just as it clicked in her mind, the next words came.

"Clary," Jonathan said her name in a distinct tone as if trying to convince her directly, "is continuing to exceed expectations. As you know, everything you told me about her potential was right. She catches on very fast. She already can take me down a third of the time. She's better then any shadowhunter you've seen I'd bet on it. And her strength... we have an unbelievable weapon in her father."

Clary couldn't move even if she had tried. Couldn't breathe. Seraphina, that man's daughter, was no random young women. It was her. Clary was Seraphina. She knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that the man talking to Jonathan was Valentine. Her father, and his. And their father's only response to all that flattery about her was, "good."

Clary knew the two men had continued to speak, but she could not focus on what they were saying. She could not think or process anything. Because for some reason that one word was the seal. The confirmation on the one thing Clary didn't know if she'd be able to survive. Jonathan was her brother. She was in love with her brother.


	16. Chapter 16

**kinda short I know, but needed to be done. And like I said before there's no set length. thanks for the nice reviews, but feel free to tell me anything you think. Much love :3 **

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><p>Clary didn't know how she made it out of the house without being caught. But somehow she did. She didn't know what she was supposed to do now. Her mind was in a total state of shock. The word "brother" running through her head over and over and over again. This all felt like a dream, it couldn't be real.<p>

She was on autopilot. Without really thinking about it she started off down the street, with no direction at all. Eventually the shock started to ware off, like she was waking up. Coming out of some induced sleep, returning to herself. And something was clawing it's way from the pit of her stomach up her throat. Anger.

She'd been lied to, betrayed, used. She felt cheap and dirty like she needed to take ten showers. Jonathan had come into her life and played with her feelings. He had led her on, gotten her to develop real romantic feelings for him, all the while knowing she was his sister. His full blood sister. How dare he? She wanted to claw his eyes out. She never wanted to see him again.

But mostly, she just wanted a distraction, something or someone to take out her anger on. With that she set off looking for alcohol.

It didn't take Clary long before she heard the sounds of shouting and heavy music. She made her way towards the noise and ended up in front of a decent sized club. The sign next to the entrance pronounced the place to admit only adults 18 or older. And the burly bouncer near said entrance looked ready to enforce that rule to the fullest. Too bad for him. Clary started toward the door, with the full intent of simply walking right past him. He'd be the decider of his own fate tonight.

"Excuse me little girl," the large man said as he placed himself directly in her path, "you're not old enough to go in there."

Clary looked up at him with a glare. "Let me in." Was all she said.

The man laughed. "Nice try, but this isn't for kiddies, now run along before I -" The mans words were promptly cut off by Clary's hands. In less then 2 seconds she had jumped up and onto the mans shoulders, and placed her delicate hands on his throat, revealing only the tip of the small knife she kept bound to her wrist.

"I really don't have the patience for this today," she told him, "so you have two options. The first is you let me in and cause no trouble for me. The second is I kill you. What'll it be?" She finished with a question.

To Clary's amazement, the man tried to call for help. She only had a split second to decide whether or not she'd follow through with her threat. She'd never killed before, though she'd had the urge. But she'd given him several chances. When someone has a knife to your throat and asks you if you want to live and you basically say no, odds are you die.

Clary made her choice. She quickly glided the razor edge across the mans throat. Slashing deep, effectively cutting off whatever call he'd attempted to make. Clary jumped off his body as it crashed to the floor, his blood pooling around his inert form. Clary looked around, no one had seemed to notice. Poor, stupid bastard. Clary wiped her knife on his jacket and slid it back into it's place on her wrist. Then she turned from him and walked inside.


	17. Chapter 17

**huge thanks to YAZMIN again for being my beta reader and dishing out ideas. Enjoy everyone and please review :)**

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><p>As soon as Jonathan stepped back into the apartment, he knew immediately. No matter how hard he strained to hear it, the sound of Clary's heartbeat didn't come from any room in the space. He went to check anyway. Just as he already knew, she wasn't in bed, or anywhere else. He was dumbfounded.<p>

There was only one exit to this place, and only he could open it. The only way Clary could have gotten out was if she had followed him out. He realized he hadn't been careful enough earlier, hadn't been sure she was sleeping, hadn't been listening for a trail. He assumed she'd been here, safe the whole time. But she hadn't been. She'd snuck out right after him, and if she had heard ... He cursed out loud. She knew.

He slammed his fist into the counter top nearest him, breaking off some piece of it. He had to calm himself down. This wouldn't help right now. What he had to do was find Clary. Find her and convince her to see how he saw, to prove to her that these feelings they shared were good. There was no other option. He couldn't lose her, not after everything. He turned around and went right back out into the city he'd just come from.

Clary had totally forgotten what she was wearing. College kids left and right were giving her looks. She had nothing to blend in with, she wasn't even wearing shoes. Her yoga pants tank top and lack of make up weren't going to go unnoticed in here. She came looking for a distraction, but the only distracting thing here would be her if she didn't do something about her state.

She shot straight for the bathroom. A young lesbian couple were making out on the sink when she entered. And they both were dressed to impress. Clary didn't see any other option. She went right over to them and peeled one of the other. The one she was holding was blonde, and the one with black hair was looking at her like she was satan. 'Well, close enough' she thought to herself.

"I'm gonna need you two to give me your clothes." She said simply. The one who was gaping at her laughed. "What are you 12? Why the fuck are you even here? How about give me back my girlfriend and leave." She told Clary with a smirk. Clary smiled back, but it was more menacing then anything. Then Clary grabbed Blondie's skull and pounded it into the sink, knocking the girl out.

Black Hair screamed for about a third of a second before Clary slammed her fist into the girl's face. She laid both unconscious girls on the floor and began to strip pieces of their outfits off them. She ended up wearing Black Hair's purple blouse and push up bra, complete with Blondie's jean skirt and heels. After digging around in one of their purses she found some deep red lipstick and mascara.

Clary didn't much like make up, but she applied it with ease. She shrugged, guessing some things were just in the DNA. She left her measly scraps of clothes for the other girls when they woke up. Then she exited the bathroom.

She headed straight to the bar on the far side of the large space, having to maneuver through tons of partygoers along the way. She was pretty sure at least four dudes touched her ass. When she finally made it to the table the bartender came right over. "What'll it be sweetheart?" He asked. She rolled her eyes. Clary looked to the side, catching sight of a very drunk looking twenty-something year old about five seats away. He appeared to be taking repeated shots of some alcohol. That was good enough for Clary.

"I'll have whatever he's having" she said as nodded toward the young man.

"ID?" He asked, smirking.

Clary's small smile vanished, turning back into the look of annoyance she was sure she had been sporting all night. "Give me your hand" was Clary's response.

Bartender hesitated, but eventually curiosity won out. He put his hand in hers. Then she squeezed, hard. He yelped.

"Shut up," she ordered, "I don't have an ID. And I'm not in the mood for bull shit. If you don't start supplying me with whatever that miserable fucker over there is having, I will break every bone in your body. And then I will slit your throat with this knife" she claimed, jamming the small tip protruding from her wrist tie into his palm.

He was looking at her in fearful awe. He swallowed, "very well." He said.

She released his hand. Not moments later came the alcohol. She downed the first shot instantly, ordering Bartender to simply "leave the bottle." He complied easily, and scurried away. She tried to lose herself in drunken bliss.

It didn't work. She must have downed 15 shots of the burning liquid, more then she'd ever consumed at one time, and she was still totally sober. In the past when this was happen she would be able to explain it away to herself. Excuses like 'I just didn't get enough' or 'maybe I am a little buzzed' or 'I guess I just have a higher tolerance.' But this, this was ridiculous.

She should be on the floor by now. Close to passing out at the least, but she was sure she could drink five more bottles of the stuff and still be perfectly fine. She was dumbfounded, and beyond irritated. She bet Jonathan would be able to explain this away to her with his demon facts 101 but he wasn't here right now. And she hoped he'd never be again.

Her brother. This stuff was supposed to make that pain go away, wasn't it? Why did it still hurt? Why could she still see his perfect face clearly in her mind? Why couldn't she just leave her feelings at the door for a while like everyone else?

She assumed this was when any normal girl would cry, but she still couldn't. All she could feel was burning rage. At Jonathan, at her father, at the bottle of alcohol in her hand. All of it. She wanted to burn the world down for this, the last thing she could imagine doing was crying. She sigh and downed another shot.


	18. Chapter 18

**I love love love all your guys' reviews, and that you've been liking my story so much. Hope I didn't disappoint. Keep reviewing and ily :3**

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><p>Tracking Clary was easier for Jonathan then anything. He would have been able to find her anywhere. Listening intently for her specific heart beat and breathing patterns, it only took him about an hour to find her in a city of what must have been thousands. When he really focused, his senses amazed even him.<p>

He ended up in front of a club. The music and hollering from the inside made it obvious the place was filled with partygoers. But it was the dead guard at the entrance that confirmed Clary's presence. Jonathan was only slightly surprised. He'd known Clary could be vicious and savage if given the motivation, but he didn't know she'd be so unrepentant.

The deep gash at the man's throat was ugly, and his position suggested she had simply killed him and left him there. On any other night he'd be proud, but right now it didn't matter. He stepped around the body and entered the _club,_ instantly being swarmed by sweaty, dancing bodies.

"Damn. How many of those are you gonna have?"

Clary turned her head towards the voice, and met the eyes of the drunk twenty something she'd noticed earlier. He was staring at her, clearly _waiting_ for a response to his question. Clary rolled her eyes. "As many as it takes" she told him, and emptied her glass once again.

He raised his eyebrows. "Bad night?" He asked.

The last thing in the world that Clary wanted was to chit chat with some dude at a bar. Especially because he clearly wasn't as wasted as Clary had initially assumed. She ignored him.

"Come on, I'm curious. No reason a beautiful girl like yourself should be here drinking alone." If he was trying to flatter her, it wasn't working. Clary was getting tired of his voice. The man got up from his seat and came to sit at the chair next to hers. "Bet I can cheer you up" he told her. She clenched her teeth.

"You're a little old for me," she said, "and I'm not interested."

"I'm only 23. Come on baby, you're so hot. We could enjoy each other's company." He finished, putting his hand on her thigh.

Clary tensed. She began to debate the consequences vs the benefits of shoving her knife into his skull right there. But she gained control of herself. "I'm 16" was all she said.

He didn't move his hand. "You don't look 16. But it doesn't matter. Usually I'd be above that kinda thing, but I'm having a bad night too" he explained slowly, his face way too close to hers for comfort.

But just as she was about to spit in his face, she caught someone in her peripheral vision. She didn't even have to move her head to know it was Jonathan. The gleam of silver hair and the shadow of a weapon at his belt was enough.

She didn't know what came over her, but suddenly she just wanted to hurt him. Or maybe she did it to show him he wasn't the only one she could be attracted to. Whatever the reason was, she moved her face forward only a couple inches before catching Twenty Three's lips with hers.

Wrong. That's the only feeling Clary could register. The kiss was nothing. Even more so then it had been kissing Simon during their short relationship. Clary cared about Simon, but this was emptiness. If there were a color for this kiss, it'd be drab and gray.

Twenty Three, though, seemed to enjoy himself. His hands were on her shoulders, pulling her closer to his body. Clary tried to force herself to enjoy it, she even opened her mouth and let him explore. She wanted to feel something at this point, she wanted to know that someone besides her brother could turn her on. He seemed about ready to pick her up, take her to a back room, and fuck her 'til the sun came up. Unfortunately for him, he'd never get that chance.

The kiss lasted only about twenty seconds before his lips were ripped away from hers, and she was glaring up into Jonathan's face.

"Dude what the hell?!" Twenty Three exclaimed, his neck was being held in Jonathan's grip.

In response, Jonathan twisted his hand, and the older man's neck snapped. Jonathan laid Twenty Three's head down on the counter, making it appear as though he were drunk and not dead.

Clary's eyes filled with malice. "You had no right to kill him, he was my toy not yours." Her voice was pure venom.

Jonathan glared back. "What Clary, you were just gonna let some twenty something college drop out take your pants off. You'd have no problem at all with that?" His voice was low as he accused her.

"Maybe I was maybe I wasn't, it's none of your concern." She told him firmly.

"Let me make something clear to you, you are mine. Everything you do is my concern. Do you understand that?" His eyes were almost totally black now, revealing just how angry he actually was. But his words sparked her own rage.

"Oh yeah I'm yours alright. Your weapon, your tool, your sister. Doesn't mean you get to control who I do and don't sleep with." Bitterness dripped off of every word.

For a moment he only looked at her, black fire in his eyes. Then he grabbed both her wrists and pulled her toward him, she didn't bother to fight. There was no point. "The only person you're going to be sleeping with is me." He whispered into her ear, it sounded like a growl, the kind you hear before the dog pounces and starts biting.

Clary ripped her wrists away and turned from him, grabbing one of the empty glass bottles she'd drained from the counter, and chucked it at his face. Of course he ducked, and it ended up shattering against the far wall when it made contact. It was all down hill from there. The music in the place stopped playing, and most of the crowd turned to stare at the two siblings while they glared at each other.

Neither even noticed or cared that all eyes were on them. Clary made the first move. She grabbed the stool she had been sitting on, sending it flying towards his form. He darted away, toward one of the club tables. She followed, prepared to attack him directly. Somehow she lost the upper hand, and when her body collided with his he grabbed her and sent her flying toward the bar's array of alcoholic bottles.

She crashed into the glass hard, liquid and jagged pieces littered the ground. She probably had about 18 shards of glass in the skin of her arms alone, any normal girl would need stitches. But Clary only stood up, ignoring the blood she felt trickling off her elbow and raced towards Jonathan again. Half way to him she plucked a butter knife speedily off one of the tables and flung it towards him, it buried itself in his leg.

He made no cry of pain, of course not. Clary only slightly heard the gasps, barely made note of the people screaming and scattering toward the exits left and right. The only thing that mattered to them both in this moment was hurting the other.

In the next eight minutes, every chair, knife, or piece of glass in the place was used as a weapon. Clary was sure she had at least a few broken bones, blood was soaking Jonathan's gear. The club was nearly empty. Finally Jonathan gained the upper hand, and he tackled her to the ground. He restrained her every limb. She struggled for only a few minutes before she let out a long sigh, and excepted defeat. Then she only looked at him, refusing to say a word.

Clary refused to think about the way she felt right there, being held down by his body, his face so close to hers. It'd be oh so easy for him to just lean down and kiss her. Until she remembered she wasn't supposed to want that anymore. And everything that had just happened. But still she stayed perfectly still, refusing to give him the satisfaction of her discomfort. But he didn't look satisfied. He looked frustrated and angry.

"Are you done?" he asked, she could feel the whisper of his lips moving he was so close. She only stared. "I said, are you done?" he asked again, more pointedly. This time she nodded, if only in the hopes that he'd finally get off of her, so that she could begin thinking straight again. "Good." He said, and then to her utter astonishment, he closed the small gap between their lips and kissed her.

Clary gasped. Her entire body came alive, lit on fire by pure desire. It was unlike anything she'd ever felt. She parted her lips underneath his, and he wasted no time at all. His tongue began exploring her mouth, and she couldn't help herself. She was kissing him back, passionately. For the moment she had forgotten how to breathe.

Everything slipped away. Her anger, her pride, her sense of resentment and distrust. She lost herself in him, in the feel of his lips gliding against hers. She couldn't imagine any better feeling.

But all too soon it ended, and the world came crashing back down. It was as if she had been suspended in time, and was now returning to the present. It all hit her at once, what she had just done. She knew who Jonathan was, and she'd made out with him anyway. There was no excuse for that kind of thing in any book. And yet, she didn't have a regret in the world.


	19. Chapter 19

Clary groaned and used her remaining strength to push her brother off of her. He didn't bother to resist, he was still processing his own actions. Why had he just kissed her? What had come over him? He didn't understand, but he wasn't sorry he did it. Especially because she had kissed him back.

But now she was clearly angry again. He watched her as she stood up and made her way over to one of the lucky tables that was still standing. She was limping. Whatever shoes she'd been wearing were gone, and what remained of the pretty outfit she'd probably stolen looked like it had been dipped in red paint.

He hated that he'd caused her pain, but they had always fought dirty. Clary wasn't a little girl, she didn't deserve to be treated differently then anyone else who would come at him. She'd of thrown him into the glass given the chance too. But he'd likely have fared better, given he was wearing gear. It wasn't in great shape, but at least it protected him some. Whereas Jonathan could see bleeding ugly gashes all over Clary's arms and legs.

A particularly big piece of glass was caught in her arm, and it looked like it may have been bone deep. He grimaced. Clary thought she was invincible right now, and she nearly was, but no one could survive bleeding out. Granted she could handle a lot more blood loss then a mundane, or even a shadowhunter, but it wouldn't leave her in such great shape.

Her adrenaline was probably fading, and judging by the limping she was probably beginning to feel her wounds. As if on cue, she sat down and let out a hiss. She glanced down at the piece of glass he'd noticed earlier and touched it. She hissed in pain again. He stood up and walked over to her, getting out his stele.

"Don't," said Clary, "I don't want your help. I'll get it out by myself."

"Clary come on, I know you're mad but don't be stupid." He told her, and then he grabbed the tip of the glass.

Clary grew still, preparing herself. Then he pulled. She let out a small scream before gaining control and cutting herself off. Jonathan dropped the bloody culprit to the floor, and put his stele to her arm. As he drew Clary began to find the other, much less serious, glass attachments and pick them out. There weren't many actually in her skin, but she was cut up everywhere.

For five minutes she let him fix her up, feeling very irritated she wasn't capable of fixing herself yet. Wouldn't this kind of thing be lesson one? But of course not. Finally he finished, and started drawing on his own arm. Clary stood up and walked back over the very broken bar. Twenty Three's lifeless body was still face down on it, and she pushed it away. Then she sat down, waiting for nothing, not wanting to go anywhere.

After a few minutes Jonathan came over. She groaned internally, she wasn't ready for this conversation. She didn't want to hear anything he had to say, didn't want his explanations, didn't want him to kiss her again. Because all those things were exactly what she wanted. And that was a bad thing. It had to be.

"Just go." She told him before he could say anything.

He paused for only a second. "Where?" he asked.

"Anywhere. Anywhere but here. Go back your apartment or something, just leave and leave me alone" she explained.

"I'm not going anywhere without you" he told her.

"Yeah, well, I'm not going with you" she informed him.

"Where will you go then? You know the mundane police have probably been tipped off by now, you're just going to wait here to surrender?" he prodded.

She looked up at him and rolled her eyes. "Let them come. What're they gonna do shoot me? Why does it even matter?"

His hand flew forward and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Don't ever say that again," he ordered, "insinuating that I wouldn't care if you died isn't expectable. You know better then that."

She jerked her face away, red anger clouding her vision. "Actually I don't. The entire time I've known you all you've done is lie to me, how the actual fuck did you think you'd get away with-" she cut herself off, then continued. "How am I supposed to believe you care about my life at all?" she demanded.

He looked her in the eyes for a moment. "Clary I don't know what it is that you think, but I wasn't trying to mislead you. I didn't want to lie to you."

"I don't believe you. I think you used me and you messed with my head and I think you enjoyed yourself" she told him honestly. Her emotions were starting to suffocate her.

He blinked. "You think ... I was messing with you? You think I was playing some game and laughing about it behind your back? That's what you think?" They sounded like genuine questions. His voice was stripped of all snark or malice. He sounded incredulous, like he couldn't quite believe what she had said.

She scoffed, not believing him at all. Then she stood up and headed toward the club's back exit. The cold night welcomed her, and she walked through the back alley for a while before she heard Jonathan's footsteps running to catch up with her. Before she could turn he grabbed her and spun her towards him. He was staring right at her, heart in his eyes. It caught her off guard, and protests died on her lips.

"Clary. I can't let you go on believing that." He sounded desperate.

She stared at him, her heart starting to fill with unwanted hope. Hope that things weren't how she'd been assuming. "What am I supposed to believe then?" She finally asked.

"You're supposed to believe me when I tell you that everything I did .. the only reason I didn't tell you the truth was that I thought it'd change the way you thought of me, I didn't want you to see me the way you do right now." He admitted.

"What does that mean? You don't want me to see you as what? My brother? You are my brother. But you spent the past months basically seducing me. Which kinda makes zero sense, unless you were doing it to fuck with my head. Which you say you weren't. So forgive me but I just don't understand." She took a breath.

"You're right Clary you don't understand. You don't understand that it doesn't have to be that way. Me being your brother doesn't have to get in the way." He told her seriously.

Her eyes widened. She didn't know what she had been expecting, but it wasn't that. It took her a few moments before she could speak. "Are you suggesting ... That you can be my brother and still be what? My lover?" She could hardly believe she'd just said those words.

He looked directly in her eyes. "Yes. If you wanted to, yes."

She was shocked. "How could you possibly justify that?" The question sounded more desperate then it had in her head. But she couldn't deny that she really wanted an answer. And more then anything she wanted the answer to actually make sense. She wanted to be with him, and being his sister was taring her apart.

"Clary, we aren't humans. Mundanes or even Nephilim, we aren't humans. We're demons." He told her.

She shook her head slightly to clear it. "Right I-I know that. What does that have to do with this?"

"Demons don't have to play by human rules Clary. Humans are repulsed by their own blood. We're drawn to it. You and me, we're two of a kind. Just us. There's no one that we're meant for but each other. Can't you see that?" he implored.

Clary's heart ached to just except his words. Everything in her told her he was right. They belonged together, in every way. He didn't have to wear an off-limits sign just because he was her brother. Like he'd said, that was a human thing. And it was true, they weren't humans.

He was searching her features for any reaction to his words. His eyes were begging for something, anything. She could see the hope in them. He loved her just as much as she loved him, in all the same ways.

"So you and me ... we aren't ... wrong?" she asked carefully.

"We're anything but wrong. You're my little sister, but you're also everything I want. You're... everything to me." his voice was pure sincerity.

Clary let that sink in, what a night this had been. She could barely believe she had laid down in bed with him only a handful of hours ago. It all felt like lifetimes. Everything that had happened in just this night alone should have been enough. The pain she had went through, emotionally and physically, in just this night alone, all because she thought she couldn't have him.

And now he was telling her she could. That they belonged to only each other. And in that moment she excepted it. It was true. He was who she wanted, who she'd do anything for. From a demon standpoint, which was apparently her only rightful standpoint, him being her brother was actually a bonus. It could simply mean for them to be closer. Only a stronger bond. And Clary wanted that, and she'd have it. She'd have him.

Jonathan saw it in her eyes when she decided, when she finally excepted that she wanted him. She finally understood, useless mundane rules didn't have to hold them back. She hadn't even spoken yet, and a smile crossed his features.

Clary slammed Jonathan into the alley brick wall, and crashed her lips on to his. The kiss was so full of need, their tongues mashing together, bodies pressed against each other. It was deep and desperate, like they couldn't quite get enough. Both were in overdrive, hearts beating faster and faster. They lost track of time. But when it ended, it felt like too soon to them both.

Jonathan managed to speak first. "I'll take that as you believing me?" He asked with a boyish smile.

Clary laughed and rolled her eyes playfully. "Yeah, I believe you." She smiled.

He laced his hand in hers. "Good. Now come on, I think you need some new clothes." He said with a smile of his own.

Clary pouted her bottom lip. "These were my new clothes." She told him.

"Yeah, I'm sure whoever you stole them from would agree with that" He said laughing, then he pulled her along toward the apartment.


	20. Chapter 20

**soooooooo sorry for the wait schools really killing me but I try to update as often as I can and this week just wasn't working out. But here you go and I hope you enjoy. Review honestly remember this is my first attempt and I want feedback. **

**super big thanks to YAZMIN (Klarolineobsessed) really couldn't write ff without you :3 **

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><p>Baby when we're touching in the dark, can you feel it?<p>

I can hear the pounding of my heart, can you feel it?

When you take my body to the stars, I believe it

Boy this love is supernatural, can you feel it?

Come, take me in the night

I feel it in my blood, want the darker side

Baby when we touch, look me in the eyes

Poison me with love, I'll bring you back to life

~~ Ke$ha - Supernatural

Clary didn't remember falling asleep. She didn't even remember getting back to the apartment. But she must have made it back somehow, because she was laying comfortably in her bed on Jonathan's chest. She could tell by the steadiness of his breathing that he was still asleep.

Glancing down at herself she could see she was still in the same tattered, bloody, stolen clothes she'd worn at the club. She was sick of seeing them. She hoped she could get some clothes and make it to the bathroom without waking him, and she tried to get out of the bed with as little movement as possible.

Moving slowly out of the bed, she felt him move beneath her and she held her breath. When she felt him relax she moved again, with slow progress. She was almost out of the bed when she felt a hand trap her wrist. She jumped and looked at Jonathan, who was gazing at her with amusement, and something else.

Before she knew it she was completely back in the bed again, her body laying on top of his. She noticed how every part of her body matched his and she liked it. She liked it a lot.

"Where do you think your going lil sis?"

"I was ... gonna change" she admitted. She could hear her own voice coming out in little breaths, and hated that he could make her so nervous.

"Well, if you have a problem with those clothes .." He left his sentence unfinished. She could feel his lips on her ear. His warm breath making her squeeze her legs together. Clary realized something very quickly, they were gonna have sex tonight. It wasn't a dream this time, he was going to take her virginity. Her heart started beating faster then it ever had. She could feel Jonathan's lips running down her neck to the cleavage only a shirt as torn as hers would reveal. She reached for him, bringing his face back up to hers.

"Kiss me first" she said breathlessly. Jonathan smirked at her and lowered his lips to hers. He moved his lips against hers, none too gently. She loved the way he kissed her with a passion, the way he wasn't afraid of her breaking. His lips were wild against hers. Gaining confidence, she stood up and lifted her shirt off, making Jonathan suck in air.

"You're beautiful" he said, then went back to kissing her. He lowered her on the bed and took off her bra, then paused a moment to take in the sight of her exposed breasts. Then he rolled them in his hand and squeezed, making her gasp in a mix of pleasure and pain. He lowered himself until he reached one of them, and started sucking it with all the need a man has. He did this with both, leaving clary a panting mess.

By this point Clarissa was soaked and it was no puzzle anymore. He could see the moisture between her legs. He smiled and moved between them, ripping off her shorts and panties, leaving clary completely exposed.

"I guess we have to take care of this, won't we?"

He stood up and took off his boxers and his shirt, leaving himself very naked in front of her. She couldn't stop starting at his length, how powerful it looked. She was tired of waiting, she wanted it inside her.

"Anything you want to say before? You can always back out. I'll wait for you."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, I won't" she said.

For some reason, she didn't expect it to hurt when he entered her. She'd heard stories, had friends who weren't virgins, that said it usually hurt some the first time. But she hadn't been prepared for it. She guessed it was probably even more painful because he was so big. The pain quickly faded though, as her insides adjusted to his size. It left her with a feeling of pure ecstasy. She soon was urging him to go deeper, and his length pushed in impossibly farther.

She moaned loudly as her brother began to thrust in and out of her. As he quickened pace she began to match his thrusts with ones of her own, her euphoria only increasing as they kept at it. Every time he would hit that special spot she would scream in unbelievable pleasure. She couldn't imagine a better feeling then this. "Fuck me harder, faster!" she screamed at him. He did just that, while she begged him to never stop. He couldn't go fast enough or deep enough in her opinion. She just wanted more. She was clenching around him, her hips bucking every time he re-entered her.

Maybe it was that they both had more stamina then humans, or whatever it may be, but it took her longer to cum. It only made it more pleasurable when her orgasm finally hit, and she got to ride it out in utter bliss. He removed himself from her dripping entrance while they both panted for a few moments. But Clary wasn't done, she didn't want to let this feeling go. Sex with her brother was the best thing she could have ever imagined, and she wanted more.

"Round two?" She asked, but she didn't really wait for an answer. She rolled over to where she was on top of him, deciding this time she'd take control. She rose, and then went down, placing herself onto his dick, slowly. He moaned. She began to pull off and on with gentle movements, it seemed to be driving him crazy. Every time she would push herself a little farther down on him. "Little sister, you're ... amazing" he told her when she went down on him again. She knew he had likely had plenty of sex before, but she wanted to be the best. So far it seemed she might be succeeding.

She was smiling. He reached up and grabbed her breasts, massaging them as she rode him until she came again. She rolled off of him gasping, enjoying her second orgasm. As the night went on Clary lost track of how many orgasms she enjoyed. By the time the sun finally made an appearance they were both beat. She was exhausted, finally feeling like she was done. But at the same time she knew she'd never get enough of him.

Clary was asleep again in his arms, but Jonathan was having a hard time believing what had just happened. He knew he had initiated it, but he really hadn't had any idea at all what to expect. If he hadn't been watching her since she was 13, he would have doubted she was actually a virgin. Besides her obvious pain in the very beginning, there were no other signs.

She had fucked him like a pro. It was the best sexual experience he'd ever had. Though that also had to do with the fact that, instead of it being some meaningless experience with a girl he didn't care about at all, this had been Clary. His sister, his blood, the girl he was in love with. He couldn't remember ever being this satisfied.

Now, more then ever before, he was sure they were meant to be together in every way. There was no one in the world for them but each other. The night had proven it. He fell asleep holding her with a smile on his face.


	21. Chapter 21

It was evening when Clary woke, she knew because the sun was almost completely set. Jonathan was laying underneath her, but his eyes were wide open. He was looking at her with an enraptured gaze, like she was the most beautiful thing in the universe. She blushed scarlet. She couldn't recall blushing to be one of her traits, but well there it was. He only smiled.

"I love you" he told her easily.

Most girls probably would have shown shock, or maybe hesitated a little. Clary didn't. She smiled wide. "I love you too" she told him.

"That was the best night of my life you know" he told her matter-of-factly.

She blushed again. "It was mine too" she responded honestly.

"I'm starting to worry we're becoming a little nocturnal though" he admitted to her with a smile.

She smirked. "It was two days we slept through, I think we could get back on schedule."

"Just for today let's not be on a schedule." He replied lazily.

"What do you have in mind?" She asked playfully.

With that he rolled away from her and got out of the bed, leaving his full self out in the open. Clary enjoyed the view. Then he reached out and pulled her to him, picked her up, and started walking her to the bathroom. "We are going to take a nice long shower" he declared.

Clary laughed and made no protests and he set her easily under the shower head, joined her, and turned on the water.

They spent the next half hour playing with each other's bodies in the steam. Clary would moan when Jonathan would place a finger or two inside her clit and feel her inner walls. Eventually, though, she ended up simply begging for him. And Jonathan, being erect and fully willing, never objected.

He thrust himself into her with full power, and she would scream in pleasure. It only turned him on further, and he would fuck her harder and harder. They stayed in the shower for at least an hour, fucking. Then they washed off. Clary let Jonathan soap her down while she did her hair. And he simply rinsed off.

They came out freshened, and very very satisfied. Clary wished everything hadn't taken so long to come to light. If she could have been this happy a month ago, and had more time to enjoy her brother this way, life would have been better. But she was happy now. Deciding to be with him had been the best decision she ever made. He was all that mattered. With him she could be sexy, dark, and powerful. It was everything she ever wanted.

Once they were both fully clothed, which was both nice and disappointing, Jonathan made her breakfast/dinner. It suddenly struck her that she didn't remember the last time she had eaten. She dug into the pancakes greedily, and so did he, both wishing they could be this happy all the time.

The two spent the rest of their day cuddling, and talking. Clary had never been one for girly things, but this felt nice. She curled up against Jonathan on the couch while they watched horror flicks and laughed.

Eventually, though, it got to be late - or early depending on how it was seen - and the two decided then would be a good time to began getting themselves back on schedule. They went to sleep together, no sex, just the way they used to. They fell asleep easily, both perfectly content, and ready for the future ahead.

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><p><strong>so that was my first attempt writing smut and I hope it was ok, like I said let me know. now this isn't really a super smutty story, it'll be involved but not a dominate factor. It's nowhere near over yet :s<strong>


	22. Chapter 22

**hi lovelies :3 thanks for the reviews and for following my story. This weeks gonna be a tough one, so probably won't post much. But keep the faith lol. Remember R&R**

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><p>"I know you're awake" Jonathan mumbled to Clary when he felt the telltale change in her breathing.<p>

Clary grimaced but didn't open her eyes. "I don't want to be awake" she told him.

She could almost feel him smirking. "Why?" he asked, like it wasn't obvious.

"Because," she sigh, "once I'm awake this ends."

His smile diminished. "What do you mean by that?"

She opened her green-black eyes and gazed up at him. "I mean, the relaxing. The sex. The chill we've had these past few days. I'm awake and it's back to business, or whatever your dad - er our dad has planned."

He only frowned, not being able to deny any of that. Wishing he could. "Unfortunately yes" he admitted.

"See?," she said, "just let me lay here for a few more minutes."

A small smile made it's way on to his features. "Alright Clary. But it's not like we can't ever have us time. I promise we'll find a way to make sure we get to have days like yesterday sometimes, okay?" He told her.

Her lips curved up at one corner. "Not exactly like yesterday though" she countered.

"Probably not no," he said smiling in a bitter sweet way, "I think the days of hot shower sex are going to be pretty limited... especially when I have to bring you to father."

She glanced at him, her eyes widening fractionally. "You mean he won't...?"

"Approve of this? No. He's Nephilim Clary. Mortal. Human. He may be our father but he's not like us. He wouldn't understand ... He'd be sick." He admitted to her.

She was shocked, and rage was clawing it's way up her throat. "I kind of hate him now" she told him, trying to sound controlled.

"I kind of hate him too" he said plainly.

That surprised her in a different way. "But if you hate him then why...?"

"Why didn't I just leave? Or kill him?" he asked.

She nodded. He took a deep breath, "because. He may not understand me, and he may be spiteful and judgmental and self righteous, but he's still my father. He's all I ever had. And loyalty ... it means something to a Morgenstern Clary" he finished.

She nodded, that she could understand. Then she frowned. "So when we - all of us - meet up... we'll have to start hiding?" she asked.

His frown matched hers. "Yes. But it won't change how we feel, we will still have time for affection sometimes."

She sigh. "Alright. Can we at least take a shower before starting on today's agenda?" she asked with a seductive smile.

She could tell he really wanted to say yes, and that almost made up for it when he said "I don't think that'd be a good idea. We really do have an agenda ... and I think I'd find myself a little too preoccupied if I went in there with you."

She fake pouted. "Fine. But if you change your mind, I'll leave the door unlocked."

He smiled at her, he really did wish he could just follow her in there and fuck her 'til the sun went down again. But he had found his self control, and watched her walk inside. He didn't hear the door lock. Damn she could drive him crazy.

Despite having said she'd give him the chance to change his mind, Clary knew he wouldn't. He was usually very disciplined, and stuck to what he said. So she took her shower quickly. But as she was putting on her gear, something occurred to her. She finished dressing and opened the bathroom door. Jonathan was there in full gear, looking ready to get on schedule. But she had to ask.

"Hey um ... we didn't really use protection you know" said carefully.

Whatever look he had on his face dropped, and he seemed to become uncomfortable. Not nervous, as if he was actually worried about her being pregnant, but like he didn't want to say something he knew he had to say. Clary became still, that was the look people wore when they had to deliver a blow. She couldn't imagine what that could be, but by his face it was coming nonetheless.

"Clary ... You um, you -can't" he said in a not so graceful way.

She got the message. "I can't get pregnant" she stated, it wasn't a question.

He looked at her. "No."

Clary didn't even flinch. "Okay" she said. She was actually relieved. Children weren't ever something she wanted. Motherhood wasn't something she saw herself taking part in. In a way this was luck. She could have unprotected sex with him all the time, and no problems would come about. No worries about a kid to be discovered, nothing. But, she was also curious. "Can I ask why?"

"The demon blood. Everything comes down to that. The demon blood prevents anything life giving, it only keeps you alive. I don't think I've told you, but you're - we're immortal Clary. 'Immortal as the demon who's blood runs within us' as father put it. That kind of thing doesn't really allow for pregnancy" he told her.

She nodded. That made perfect sense, and she was also very intrigued. Immortality. They'd never die. They'd be young, powerful, in love forever. She smiled wide. "Things just keep getting better and better" she said.

His smirk returned, and he went to kiss her. It was soft, simple, and lasted only a few seconds. Probably the closet thing they'd ever get to a chaste kiss. "I'm glad you're happy, I didn't know how'd you react. I should have known you'd see things the way I do."

She gazed at him. "Of course I do" she said.

He clasped his hands together. "Alright. We need to get started."


	23. Chapter 23

**sorry about this guys, kind of just a fill chapter. But it had to be done this kind of thing is needed. *shrugs* **

**review anyways lol :3**

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><p>Clary's head hurt. And not in the way she was used to. Jonathan had spent the last two days, every waking minute, on shadowhunter 101. Apparently she'd mastered the physical aspects of being a Nephilim, well she was better then them, but she needed to understand them as well.<p>

He had taught her all the basics. All the vocabulary that sounded like it was being pronounced wrong, all the names she'd been curious about, and rule after rule after rule held by the clave. Then he had went on to teach her about every demon known to exist, the ways in which shadowhunters had been taught to kill them, and what their strengths and weaknesses were. He had went over every specific rune and it's origin. He reviewed shadowhunter history, who was most remembered among them.

It was all so much information Clary felt like vomiting. After his lessons he would quiz her extensively, during which times she thanked the stars for her supernatural memory. Today, after the afternoon lesson, he had handed her several books. The one on top was titled The Shadowhunter Codex. She sigh heavily, even before he had given her the direction to go to her room and read all of them. That was about nine hours ago.

Now she was nearly done and was sporting a massive head ache. But she was pretty sure she had most of the information down. She'd always been a quick learner. After closing the last book, which may as well have been titled 'Dull and Boring' she got up from the bed and walked out into the hall. She was hungry after eating basically nothing the whole day, and was headed toward the kitchen when Jonathan stepped in her path.

"All finished?" he asked.

"Yes, is it a problem if I eat now?" her question was rhetorical, and full of attitude, but he answered anyway.

"Actually it is. I need to test you first" he told her.

She glared at him, not eating didn't do nice things for her personality. "It can't wait?" she asked angrily.

He smirked. "No." Then he led her over to a table which had a thick packet and a pencil on it.

She stared at him, fire lighting her eyes. "An actual test? This like four inches thick, it'll take me hours to do this!" she yelled.

He looked like he was trying very hard not to smile. "I know. But I have to be sure you know everything. Knowing these things is going to make everything a lot easier in the future, trust me. The whole point of these past few days was to make sure you could keep up on every conversation, especially the ones no one will expect you to understand. There's no time limit, but you can't eat until you're done. Oh," he said glancing towards the clock, which pronounced it to be 11pm, "and you can't sleep either."

She looked as if she was about to explode. Her face was completely red with frustration. But she was speechless.

He smiled this time, unable to stop himself. Being mean to her could be so fun. "Good then, I wish you luck" he told her, and strolled down the hall to his room.

Many hours later, Clary began to realize this wasn't just a mental test. It was a test to see how she'd behave. It was a test to see if she could control herself, remain disciplined. It was a test to see if she'd actually listen, if she had the ability to do what she was told. That was when it hit her, this wasn't Jonathan's test. It was Valentine's.

He had likely told Jonathan to do this, in order to see how much of a Morgenstern she was and could be. She suddenly felt like she was being suffocated, controlled, and she hated it. But she didn't want to disappoint Jonathan, so she made no move to be disobedient or disruptive. She quietly finished her test, confident she had gotten every answer right. She was also pleased with herself that she'd been able to tough it out.

She stood up and walked into the kitchen, grabbed a banana off the counter and nearly stuffed the entire thing into her mouth. After that she barely made it to the couch before passing out.

She woke up to the sound of Jonathan snickering, and groaned. She could tell by the sky it hadn't been very long, and she was in no way ready to be awake again. But her stomach disagreed, it rumbled loudly, demanding she eat.

"Eat quick little sis," he said while he helped her up, "there's more to learn."

She stopped in her tracks. "But ..." she couldn't finish.

"I'm sure you passed Clary, I'm not worried about that, it wasn't the answers that really mattered anyway," he paused to shrug, "anyway that was only strictly Clave stuff. It's time for me to teach you the us-stuff. I promise it'll be a lot more fun" he explained.

The fact that he probably hadn't even looked at that test made her angry beyond belief, but once again she swallowed her frustration. He, hopefully, knew what he was doing. So all she said was, "no more school work? Because that's not fun."

He laughed. "No, no more of that."

"Good" she said, and then headed for the fridge.


	24. Chapter 24

As it turned out, being a beautiful immortal demon could actually be pretty cool. Clary was delighted to find out that she was capable of more then just your average shadowhunter, especially where demons were concerned. She had sat, eyes alight, as she listened to Jonathan tell her about all the crazy things she could do because of her blood.

The best thing was probably demon control. When the Mortal Cup was wielded by Nephilim, demons would be subject to their control. Apparently, though, at least according to Jonathan, he and Clary didn't require anything. Demons would fall to their mental or verbal commands at will. Because their demon mother, whom Jonathan called Lilith, was the mother of all demons, and they were her chosen children, her blood allowed them demonic abilities.

This included other stuff as well, like being able to restore a wounded or dying demon, not to mention self healing. If they focused their energy on their wounds, after a moment they'd heal. Clary thought that would have been convenient to know before, but Jonathan insisted it took a great amount of energy out of them, and he didn't want her relying on that. If possible, a rune was the best option. All that mattered was mortal wounds couldn't take their lives, next to nothing could.

When she asked about the 'next to' Jonathan told her only a blade forged in the fire of heaven could ever kill them. On earth, those didn't exist. And Angels were too cold and uncaring to intervene in anything at all, humans were not of their concern. No one would risk calling on an angel without protection. Even then, it was an extremely rare attempt. Clearly it all was all a non-issue.

The only warning Jonathan gave her about her abilities was that Valentine didn't know about them. He was only aware of the superior strength and speed. Jonathan had discovered the others on his own, and had never told their father. When she asked why, he shrugged and claimed his gut told him not to. Valentine wasn't above anything, and Jonathan didn't want him to have any more control then he already did.

Loyalty, apparently, only went to necessary extents when you didn't love someone. Jonathan was loyal to Valentine, but he didn't care for him, that much was clear. For this Clary was grateful, she didn't much want Valentine knowing absolutely everything either. Keeping the extent of their abilities from him was definitely the best option. She liked having a secret leg up.

After he'd explained their capabilities to her for a decent amount of time, and described how they worked, it was time for what Jonathan referred to as 'the fun part.' She got to test them out.

As soon as he said this, Clary's excited expression dropped. Last time she had checked, there was only a few ways to test this kind of thing out. As if anticipating her train of thought, Jonathan smiled. Then he opened up the drawer nearest him and pulled out a knife.

"Now," Jonathan said, "I don't want you to have to do this unless it's totally necessary, but if it is I need to know that you can do it."

Clary sigh and picked up the knife. Then she looked up at him for direction. He nodded towards her arm. "Let's just keep it in the safe zone for now" was his explanation.

Clary then dragged the knife across her skin, creating a deep gash from her forearm to her wrist. Blood pored out of her knew wound, dripping onto the table top and then to the floor. It stung like a bitch. She became mesmerized by it, watching the deep blackened-red colored drops pool into puddles.

"Clary!," Jonathan yelled at her, "heal yourself!"

Clary came back into attention "huh? Oh yeah ..." she tried to focus on her wound, throw her energy into healing it. But it just wasn't happening. She couldn't even feel the pain anymore, and her vision was getting foggy around the edges. "Um... I don't think this ..." she couldn't even finish her sentence before blackness swam over her vision.

But just before she passed out, everything stopped. Her vision cleared. There was suddenly nothing wrong with her at all. All that was left on her arm was her blood, with no origin. She looked up at Jonathan, unable to hide her awe.

"You did that so easily" she mumbled.

He sigh, suddenly looking very tired. "I couldn't wait around forever for your system to kick in and bring you back. That teaches you nothing, you have to know how to do it at will. And you have to know how to recover from it quickly." As if taking his own advice he seemed to try to shake off his sudden fatigue. It took him a few moments, but he recovered himself.

Clary only shrugged, not knowing what to say. In the past she would have apologized, but she hadn't done that in months. She had nothing to apologize for.

Jonathan sigh. "It's probably my fault, we should have started you smaller. Tried cutting your palm or something."

She nodded. "That probably would have worked better, yeah. But I didn't know what sort of damage you were going for."

He sigh and stood up. "Let's get you cleaned up."

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><p><strong>alright guys, I promise things are gonna pick back up now. Last few chapters were kinda needed info I guess. But I wanna hear what you guys have to say, so like don't like? Tell me please. Of course I like to hear the nice things better lol but you know. :3 <strong>


	25. Chapter 25

The Alicante air was cold but pleasant to Robert Lightwood as he made his way down it's streets. He was on his way back to his temporary home where his youngest son and wife were staying. His wife had asked to prolong their trip to Idris, brought on by the Accords signing, and he had been happy to go along with it.

He had missed Idris as much as Maryse had after their punishment was placed upon them as formal circle members. He was in no rush to leave it, and it was in his nature to stroll about the capital city at whatever times of peace he had, enjoying it's silence.

But the calmness of the night did not last. A few blocks from his destination, in the corner of his vision, he caught a flash of dark red. It was in contrast with his surroundings, which was why his trained eye had caught it. Or so he thought. He couldn't have known that it was design for him to see the color and search it out.

He turned towards where he had spotted it and walked that way. When he turned the first corner he saw it again. This time it was clear what it was: hair. Someone had been following him, and now he was following after them. Her, apparently. Why would a Nephilim girl have been stalking him through Alicante streets?

He simply wanted to know who she was, and what had stopped her from speaking to him directly. Or maybe even that he was seeing the situation all wrong, that she hadn't been following him but simply minding her own business, and that he had possibly turned his head at the wrong time. After all, a teenage shadowhunter would certainly have reason to be making their way through the city at 8:30 in the evening. Perhaps they were rebellious, or wanted to explore what they may not have seen before. It would be perfectly sensible to him, as he was raising teens.

Nonetheless he continued his pursuit. As he walked a few lights would be on in some homes, illuminating his path. It was these times when he kept and quickened his pace that he began to be able to make out the shadow and form of the girl. But it was only when he hit the edge of the city that he realized he was not pursuing, but being lead. This was because the moment he hit the border, and felt the discomfort of passing through it, the red haired girl started running.

He almost turned back, re-entered the city as if he had never crossed out, but he didn't. Robert wasn't a man who let this sort of bizarre thing go, so he followed. About a quarter mile away from the city, where he could see trees in the distance beginning a forest, he saw her. The red haired girl was just standing there, seeming to be studying the night sky or possibly the distant trees. Her back was to him. He figured now would be fine, as this situation was starting to give off an eery feeling.

"Young miss?," he asked, "what are you doing?"

She didn't turn to him. "What I was told" she responded.

"You know it's against any sort of Clave protocol to illegally exit or enter the city" he told her.

"I suppose you would know what was illegal wouldn't you Lightwood?" she asked.

He was slightly taken back, as an older shadowhunter he'd rarely been disrespected by children or adolescents, as Nephilim were usually well manured having been raised by the clave. But the girls voice dripped with distain, like she knew him personally, and hated him.

His senses began to tell him to be cautious, but that made no sense. He was older, stronger, definitely had more training, he'd have no reason to be careful with a child, a disrespectful one at that. "I would. But that doesn't warrant poor behavior. And it has nothing to do with your current situation. Now, I demand to know who you are and what family you belong to. This and why you are out here, causing me to follow after you."

Now she turned to him. She was a pretty girl, dark hair and eyes. Her pale skin in contrast with her features. But he'd never seen her before, not even an inkling of recognition hit him. She had no purpose in being concerned with him, he was sure of it. But her eyes had his hair standing on end. They were just slightly too dark, the white not present at second glance. It looked... demonic. Robert pulled his seraph blade. It laughed.

"You arrogant Nephilim, assuming that pathetic weapon will have an effect on me" it's smile had no humor, it was a hateful sneer of it's lips.

He was burning with curiosity, but his demeanor was cautious. Eidolon demons were clever, but as far as he knew their glamour was not strong enough to conceal themselves from shadowhunters, especially after they had been discovered. So how was it continuing to appear human to him? But most importantly how had it been in Alicante. The wards had never, in their entire history, been breached by any type of demon. Let alone a Lesser Eidolon. If this one had entered, what else could? Were those in Alicante still safe?

"Seraph blades kill your kind as I'm sure you're aware" he responded.

It smirked. "Kill me then" it taunted.

But it didn't even allow him to move all of two inches in it's direction before it pulled a knife from it's red leather and flung it through the air towards him with precise accuracy. The pain ripped through his body from his lower abdomen, and he felt it exit through his spine with incredible force. He fell to the ground, becoming nothing but dead weight on his legs.

The demon walked over to him, it's sneer looming in his vision. "Idiot. I'm not some pathetic little Eidolon, you should know better then to make assumptions Lightwood."

"I don't," he was choking on the blood coming from his mouth, "understand..." he couldn't finish.

It, or possibly she, only smiled wider at him. "Valentine says hello."

His eyes flew wide and he tried to respond, but the girl pounded her fist into his chest, and crushed his heart. His world went black, death coming before he could form even a final thought.


	26. Chapter 26

**I have to say I am sooooooooooooooooo sorry for taking an eternity to get back to this I don't know what happened I just became really distracted with other fandoms and such idk but please forgive me I will try to be more diligent in the future just bear with me. **

**I love you guys so tell me what you think, extra long because I was gone. **

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><p>After Clary had snuffed out Robert Lightwood, it was only a matter of portaling back to New York. Creating portals was simple enough, Jonathan had told her it would be easy for her due to the amount of Angel blood she had in her veins. The demon blood, conveniently hadn't suppressed her oh so special and handy angelic talents. She found that runes came easily to her, and using them to be as simple as breathing.<p>

That was one area she had the upper hand on her brother, as she had a more leveled concentration of Angel vs Demon then did he. Probably why, in some of her baby pictures, her eyes used to be a light shade of emerald. She cut off those thoughts, annoyed she'd let her mind wander while she was standing in the middle of a dirty New York alley in the late hours with a body at her feet.

The body, now that was an issue. She took out her cellphone, ignoring the fifty plus missed calls from Simon and her mom that were always there, she imagined her voice mail was probably full by now. She kept telling herself she'd deal with it another time. Jonathan answered on the first ring.

"Is it done?" he asked.

"Hello to you too," she said, "yes it's done. But I don't know what to do with him."

"No one can find his remains Clary, you know that. This has to be clean" he told her for what she felt to be the millionth time.

"I know but I can't just make a body disappear. It's not like -" she cut herself off.

"Not like?" came her brothers voice.

"Never mind" she hung up the phone.

Summoning a Behemoth was so simple she couldn't imagine why she hadn't thought of it immediately. Calling demons to her was almost a subconscious action at this point, requiring almost no effort at all. She left the thing to it's meal and turned to portal away.

She could have portaled back to the apartment, but she felt like taking a walk. Now that the Lightwood father was dead, she imagined it would soon be time to meet hers. For weeks now while she trained Jonathan was holding Valentine off. She'd heard the phone conversations. Apparently Valentine was anxious to meet his 'Seraphina' and she was 'supposed to be ready by now.'

It had taken her a while to get all her tricks down, and an even longer while to be sure of her ability to use them. She was practically a master now, but she still wasn't sure she wanted to meet her father. So far her opinion of him wasn't stellar, and she knew how poised he probably expected her to behave. It wasn't something she was looking forward to, but the free period was ending. Clary tried to come to terms with that as she made her way toward the place she'd come to think of as home, possibly for the last time.

*a few weeks previous*

"Valentine" Maryse panted out. She was enjoying herself immensely, but this was the only time she had to speak about grave matters.

"Yes my love?" he asked as he rolled off of her.

Some part of her wanted to ignore the issues at hand, but they had to be taken care of. "Why is my husband still alive? I think it's obvious he shouldn't be breathing a moment longer." Her aggravation was coming out. Her husband never touched her anymore, treated her like the plague. Yet he was making it near impossible for her to sneak away.

"It's being handled May I swear. My children will be taking care of him shortly. He will be dead within a month" he promised her.

"And once he is dead? What of me?" she asked.

"Your disappearance will be key. No one is going to find his body Maryse. And when you go missing as well, they'll assume you were both taken. You'll remain in my safe house until the Clave is rebuilt in my image. You know all of this already, why are you so nervous about it? Have I ever failed you?"

Valentine was always good with plans and words, it was the first thing she had loved about him. But he had faltered without realizing it, and she was struck with pain. "You did fail me once, when you married that wench and left me with no one but Robert."

Valentine frowned. "I knew he would take care of you my dear. You two did not always have contempt with each other. You were friends."

"Yes, but I loved you. And I had to watch you be married to someone else, have a child with her" she replied.

"You know how hard it was for me to ... I should have chosen you I know that. It pained me to make that choice" he told her.

"Are you also pained by shortly after when you left everyone thinking you'd died?" She took a breath. "I'm sorry. I know we've already talked about this. I forgive you, I do, but do not act as though you've earned my total faith. For all I know you could be heading home to Jocelyn, wherever she is, and simply be using me in your plot. I know nothing until my husband is dead and I am safely away with you" she finished.

"As it shall be. I never loved Jocelyn as I love you. She was a chess piece and remains so. She is the tool in my plot, you, for all intents and purposes, are my wife" he responded.

She looked away. "A wife who has not born your children as she."

"It is good that you did not bear my children Maryse. I have told you of the torment the poison put on Jocelyn's mind. I've told you of the way she has tortured herself with the knowledge she has born only monstrous creatures from her womb. I would have never been able to use you as I needed her. I needed warriors, if you had born them..." he didn't finish.

She nodded, that was one thing she was thankful for. "It's true. And we do, at least, share one child. Even if he is not truly our own." She smiled as she thought of Jace. Charming, full of attitude and personality. He brought the best out of her other children. He didn't know Valentine had raised him until he was ten and then sent him to her. She hadn't known it at the time either. It was only when Valentine had returned that she had learned Jace was not, in fact, a Wayland. But that he was, by blood, a Herondale, and by 'adoption' a Morgenstern. After the years that had passed, he was her son. And even if he wasn't aware of it, he was too Valentine's. It was all very messy, but Maryse took comfort in it.

Valentine smiled. "Aw yes, Jace. Someday soon, he will join me. Likely he will be my heir, as our child it's only right."

That surprised her. "But what of your son? Your daughter?"

"Jonathan and Seraphina are warriors, not rulers. They will have a place next to me, but I do not think I could leave them to lead the Clave" he responded.

She nodded, "I do hope they aren't aware of this, I worry they wouldn't agree."

"No matter. That is an issue for many years in the future, darling" he said, and then kissed her.

*now*

Clary knew the time was near, but she didn't realize quite how near it was. When she walked into the apartment, Jonathan was sitting on the couch waiting for her.

"It's time" he said right away.

Clary wrinkled her nose, filled with annoyance. "Jonathan... do we have to do this? Why is loyalty so important? I know what he's done in the name of getting what he wants, why do you ... why do we have to continue to be his little soldiers? It's ridiculous." She had been hesitant to be honest about this, she didn't want to disappoint him, but she never quite understood his loyalty to their father.

He took a deep breath. "You're right, it is. Look ... It's because of his plan. He's going to bring down the whole Clave, Clary, and once he has it all under his control ... We're gonna take it. We'll give the world to demons, and we'll rule it for ourselves. I should have told you that sooner, but I needed you to focus on what was at hand."

She stared at him for only a moment, before her lips curved up at the corners, and her eyes were sparkling at him. "I thought, this whole time I thought it was because he was your father, and you just couldn't see... I don't know what I thought. I'm just ... relieved. Because I'll behave, for you, but I can't be loyal to him Jonathan."

He smiled. "I know. Don't worry. Once we have the Clave he won't be an issue anymore, for now he will just be an obstacle. Something to deal with. We may be stronger then him, but we can't over power him when we still need him, and he is a powerful man Clary. Don't try to take him on until it's time to kill him. Promise me."

She sigh. "Alright I promise... I wish he was at least accepting of us."

He stood a little closer to her. "We'll deal with it, find ways to have time together without him knowing. You know that. I swear."

Clary reached up and kissed him passionately. It only took him less then a second to respond to her, and then their lips were moving in sync. It had been too long since they touched each other like this, kissed like this. They both felt the ache for the old times, when it was just the two of them to worry about, before anyone threatened their time together or how they felt about each other. Clary broke the kiss first, gloom coloring her features. She didn't want this to be over, neither did he.

"Hey," he said as he cupped her face, "I love you. Everything will be okay." Then he kissed her again, slow and sweet.

She nodded. "Alright," she sigh, "let's go."

They left the apartment, both refusing to look back.


	27. Chapter 27

**sorry didn't really read through or edit this one much, it was kind of just explanatory. Been moving homes so a bit busy to write atm, but I'll do my best. Please review. **

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><p>Valentine and Maryse sat in what likely used to be a staff room in Renwick's Ruin. It was a place Valentine had sought out to keep himself and family hidden well. This was where his children were to meet him, his daughter for the first time. He could see from Maryse's body language and expression that she was nervous, but he wasn't intimated by his own children. His son would never defy him, and his daughter would be made to be well behaved, if she wasn't already. He was confident she would be obedient, that he could manage her temper as he had his son's.<p>

Maryse's head snapped up as the a door opened and closed, and the sound of feet echoed through the hallways. She was nearly shaking when Jonathan and Seraphina entered the room. He rested a hand on her leg. 'Be calm,' he tried to communicate, 'do not let them see any power they have over you.' Her head nodded once, as though she understood.

The first thing he noted was the flaming dark red hair that flowed past her shoulders. The second thing was her eyes, they seemed to be the most intricate combination of dark green and black, as though they were a pattern. The black seemed to swirl, cutting into him. For the slightest fraction of a moment, Valentine felt a discomfort underneath that gaze, but a moment later it was gone.

"Seraphina" he said, rising and stepping towards her.

Her eyes flicked over to her brother, then back at him. She shifted her legs, but stayed silent.

"You should speak when you're spoken to" Valentine told her in a perfectly calm tone.

Seraphina's eyes filled with fire, but she kept herself. "I don't know what you want me to say" was her reply.

"I'm your father Sera. You could at least greet me with respect"

She smiled, but it wasn't a smile. It was a narcissistic, disrespectful twist of her lips. She opened her mouth, but Jonathan reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes flicked to him for a fraction of a second, and her shoulders relaxed. She stared at Valentine for a moment, then said "I can't do this."

Valentine watched in silence as she turned her back and walked out of the room. Then he turned to his son, giving him a look that could burn holes in his face. "You swore she was ready" disappointment coloring his tone.

Jonathan only looked at him, then followed his sister out of the room.

Clary was turning corners, trying to find her way back out of the building she'd been dragged into. Anger was burning inside her, all directed towards her 'father' who had treated her like a child precisely three seconds after meeting her. He was nothing but the delusional controlling asshole she predicted he'd be. A hand grabbed her arm and yanked her back. Jonathan.

"Clary don't" he said as he turned her to face him.

She met his eyes, her apology for him written in them. He softened.

"I'm sorry" he told her.

She was immediately confused. "What do you have to be sorry for? I'm the one who fucked that up bad. You warned me how he'd be, and I basically -"

"No," he cut her off, "it wasn't fair of me to expect you to be able to tolerate him. He can be... I should have stepped in or something."

She sigh. "It's not your fault he can't even call me by name. That's his. And that whole thing about respect? Why should I respect him? I don't recall him ever showing me any respect at all."

"I know Clary. But that's how it is. I know you hate him, I hate him too. But you know we need him. Which means you have to try. Just tell him what he wants to hear. It's not easy I know but you have to. Do it for us okay?"

Clary relented, then she bent up and kissed him. It was only a second, but it made her feel better. For them. She could handle herself for them.

Maryse watched as Sera entered the room after her brother and schooled her features into one of apology, even though her eyes were totally empty.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you." she told Valentine calmly.

But Valentine accepted it. "It's fine. I know you had no idea what to expect of me. But I assure you, as long as we respect each other our family will accomplish much."

Sera smiled. "Of course."

It had been almost a week since Clary had met Valentine, and she had been perfectly behaved when she was around him. She hadn't complained about her name to him, or let anything 'disrespectful' escape her tongue. She lived by Jonathan's advice, saying everything her father and Maryse wanted to hear. Yet, they were still hiding away at Renwick's. Clary was impatient. She wanted to get whatever plan her father was supposed to have on the road. On the fifth night, she finally got her wish when Jonathan came into Clary's make shift room on the third story. "Valentine wants to see us" he told her.

Now she was standing in the office where she'd first met her father and Maryse Lightwood. "Come in" Valentine said.

Clary's body was tensing. This was finally the beginning, she could feel it. But her excitement was torn to shreds with only a single sentence.

"Sera, we need you to go back to your mother."

Clary's eyes flew wide. Disbelief colored her features. She opened her mouth to reply, but Jonathan helpfully cut her off before she could destroy all the progress she'd made.

"Why?" he asked.

"We need Sera to be a spy. In order to do this she will have to gain the trust of those at the New York institute. Hodge Stark-weather is already a loyal disciple of mine, but the teens who currently reside there are not. I need Clary to take up residency in the institute so she can keep tabs on the Clave and relay any developments Hodge may not be trusted with back to me." Valentine explained.

"Okay, but how does any of that have to do with Jocelyn?" Clary asked.

"You cannot simply stroll up to institutes doors, tell them you have no idea why you can see them, and then expect them to even let you in, much less believe you. That won't lead anywhere at all."

Clary nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"We are going to have to set them up. Allow them to see you see them, and you play the part of a confused girl who is unable to make sense of anything she sees. In order to be that girl, you need to have a home. A family. Some sort of explanation for why a Nephilim girl was not raised a shadowhunter. That requires you to go back to your mother, if only for a time. Make them believe you know nothing, get them to open their doors to you. That is the only way this works" he finished.

"But my mother isn't just going to play along. No one is. I've been missing for months and months. I can't just walk back into my mom's house and expect her to be my cover story" she shot back.

For a moment Valentine seemed stumped. "Indeed" was the only thing he said.

Clary waited.

"You're simply going to have to lie to her. Make her believe we kidnapped you, and it took you this long to get away. Whatever story you have to spin. You have a week to make her trust you again. She loves you, she will want to believe you so she will. Try to salvage some old mundane friendships if you had any. One week, two at the most. Remake yourself back into your average mundane girl. Good luck." Then he stood up and left the room.

When the door shut Clary turned to Jonathan. "Once I'm in... how long am I going to be there?"

His eyes were distressed. "As long as it takes. Clary I'm sorry. Remember that you're doing this for us."

She looked up at him. "But I won't even get to see you..."

"Clary," he said cupping her face, "of course we will see each other. I'll probably be watching you, just like it was my job before. Every free moment that you have to get away, every time no one is watching I will be there."

A weight lifted off her shoulders. He was right. Jonathan would almost always be close by. There was no way her father trusted her enough to let her carry out her indefinite 'spy mission' all by herself. For once it payed to not be completely trusted. "You're right" she breathed.

He kissed her softly, it lasted only a few seconds. "Believe me, this will end up being a good thing."

She nodded. Then sigh. "I guess I better get going then, mundane life awaits."

He smirked and kissed her forehead. "You'll be fine" he said.

She walked out, taking comfort in knowing a few minutes later Jonathan would follow.


End file.
